


Ascension: Part II

by madi_solo



Series: Ascension [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Daredevil (TV), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Action/Adventure, F/M, Fantasy, Romance, Science Fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-27
Updated: 2017-11-09
Packaged: 2018-09-02 12:18:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 60
Words: 72,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8667391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madi_solo/pseuds/madi_solo
Summary: Shortly after the Avengers' final battle against the villain known as Mister Fear, Karis is abducted and taken to Asgard by a man who claims that he is doing it for her own protection. Meanwhile, back on Earth, tensions between Steve Rogers and Tony Stark reach a boiling point, and Ava is caught in the middle.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for your comments and the kudos on Part I! Hannah and I hope that you will stick with us in Part II! Please review and let us know what you guys think!:)
> 
> \- Madison

“Who are you?”

“You know who I am.” 

His low voice reverberated through the gray emptiness that surrounded them—an emptiness that reflected her internal state. She was confused and afraid, her heart pounding and her knees trembling.

“Karis.”

Unwillingly, she raised her head to look at him. For the first time that she could remember, she saw him in plain view. The mysterious cloak was gone, and a tall, raven-haired man remained. A pair of steely azure eyes gazed back at her, penetrating her very core. She felt exposed, vulnerable, and she swallowed nervously. 

“You’re frightened,” he noted with a hint of surprise. 

“Why shouldn’t I be?” Karis demanded, her voice growing stronger. “A monster appears out of nowhere and tries to kill me, and then you show up and drag me off to…wherever we are now.” 

“After all I’ve done for you, I’d have thought that you would be a little more grateful,” he sighed in mock disappointment. 

“Grateful?” she snapped. “I don’t even know who you are!”

There was a pause. His features became solemn and unexpectedly soft all at once. 

“I’m Loki.”

She stared at him blankly, and his dismay was evident. Something else—anger—flashed across his eyes, and Karis shifted uneasily. He began to pace, outwardly restrained, but now she could see his rage that was bubbling below the surface. Anxious to break the silence, she couldn’t contain herself any longer. 

“Why have you been following me? Why are you doing this?” 

He stopped, turning slowly to face her. “You’ve been in this state for far too long, embracing a false reality.” 

“This is my reality!” she cried, tears springing to her eyes. “This is everything I’ve ever known, and you want to destroy it!” 

Loki observed her closely, brows furrowing. “You’ve remembered something, haven’t you?”

“I don’t want to remember,” Karis answered tightly. “I want to forget it—all of it.” 

He swallowed before responding bluntly: “You can’t.”

She blinked, taken aback, and he stepped towards her. 

“Your loss of memory is no accident. There are those who will stop at nothing to be rid of you. Their first plan has failed. They know this because you are beginning to rediscover your powers. Now, there is only one option left to them: your death.” 

This was too much. Emotions and information swirled inside her in a jumbled mess. Shaking her head and attempting to slow her breathing, she met his gaze. 

“Who is trying to kill me?”

“A discussion for another time,” Loki replied dismissively. “For now, it is best that you become accustomed to your new accommodations.”

“My…?”

In the blink of an eye, all of it was gone—Loki, the grass, the trees, the mist—everything. Only then did she realize that her lids were actually closed, and she opened them. The room was a deep blue, slivers of moonlight peeking through the nearby window and permeating the shadows. The fact that she was in dark, unfamiliar surroundings terrified her, and Karis bolted upright, noticing for the first time that she was lying in a bed. There, seated at the foot of the bed in a chair, was Loki.

He was watching her intently, not saying a word. Multiple plans of escape flew through her mind: there was a door, the window, or perhaps she could use her powers.

“Attempting to escape would not be in your best interests,” he remarked in a low voice. It was not a threat, but a statement—a fact.

“How do you know what I’m thinking?” she responded defensively, breathing hard. 

Exasperated, he sighed. “Your eyes darted in every direction, searching every corner of the room for a potential escape route. You projected each thought as it entered your mind.” 

She stared at him through wide eyes. She had no idea who this “Loki” was, but he unsettled her on a level she couldn’t fully comprehend. Subconsciously, Karis knew that he was far more powerful than she, that it was pointless to resist. She felt like a caged animal—trapped—backed into a corner. Overwhelmed by the events that had transpired in what seemed like seconds, she felt tears burning in her eyes. 

“I want to go home. Please, just let me go home.”

He looked almost offended, his brows raised ever so slightly. “This is your home.” 

“I don’t even know where I am,” her voice cracked, and she swallowed painfully. 

A brief glimmer of sympathy flickered in his pale orbs. “You’re in Asgard.”

Her expression was one of utter confusion as he went on. 

“You don’t understand now, why I’ve brought you here, but you will soon.”

That was it. She had heard enough. In a frenzy, Karis sprang from the bed and lunged for the door. She didn’t know how he moved so quickly, but in a flash, Loki had her pinned against the wall. She choked back a sob, doing anything to avoid his piercing gaze. 

“Listen to me,” he hissed through gritted teeth. “I am the only thing standing between you and certain death. Would I have saved you if I intended to cause you harm? Think rationally!”

She was incoherent. This was everything she had been fighting so desperately to avoid. This was everything she wanted to forget. She wanted nothing more than to get away from him. 

Suddenly, all Karis became aware of was his painful grip on her wrist. “You’re hurting me,” she whimpered. 

Blinking, Loki released her and backed off slightly. Caressing her now aching wrist, she finally met his gaze. 

“You do not understand what has transpired here,” he began in a quiet but steady voice. “Asgard is galaxies away from Earth, on a separate plane of existence. It is not possible for you to return—not without my assistance.”

The realization struck her with tremendous force, nearly causing her knees to buckle. She was trapped here, away from Matt, away from her friends. Who knew if she would see any of them ever again? 

“The pain will pass in time, once you discover the truth,” said Loki, breaking the heavy silence. 

Rage boiled inside her, threatening to bubble over. “Get out!” she screamed, storming towards him. “Get OUT!”

He stared at her for several moments, completely still, before finally moving to the door. His fingers on the handle, he cast a last glance over his shoulder before disappearing into the shadows beyond. The door clanged shut behind him, and she distinctly heard a lock click. At last, the sobs that she had been so desperately restraining escaped from her throat, and Karis collapsed at the foot of the bed, weeping uncontrollably.

All she could see was Matt, waiting for her at their candlelight dinner, and all she could think—that she never came.


	2. Chapter 2

Ava awoke in a cold sweat, bolt upright in the bed, breathing through open mouth. It was as though she were still surrounded by that thick, vaporous smoke, bodies littering the ground beneath her feet and fear clouding her every thought. Stumbling from the bed, Ava laid a hand on the wall to steady herself as the room spun in circles. With heavy footsteps, she crossed the room and threw open the door, falling to her hands and knees in the hallway.

"Not this time, Steve."

Ava jerked her head towards Steve's living room, where a dim light appeared.

"But if he would just-"

Some of the cloudiness disappeared from her vision, and she shakily stood, approaching the light.

"He's not going to, though."

"Why did you come to me?"

"Steve, you have Ava and Bucky in this apartment. Do you think he's going to let that slide?"

"He said he was dropping it."

"He is for now. But that's not permanent. You and I both know that. You heard him...he thinks he's being the world's hero. He's going to come for you, and Bucky, and whoever else is here."

Ava's stomach turned, and she fought the bile rising in her throat.

"What do I do?"

"Well...I don't know. Where's Barnes?"

She heard Steve's heavy sigh and glanced up, a glimmer of worry spreading through her.

"I don't know..." he murmured. "He goes out. For extended lengths of time. He's still getting used to this, ya know?"

Ava took a shuddery breath. Bucky wasn't here. Quickly, she closed her door and tried to suck in more air. If he wasn't here, how was she supposed to stay?

Glancing at the window, she made a split second decision, pulling it open and sliding out onto the seal. The air was cool, but Ava hardly felt it as she stared at the ground below. It wasn't far, but she was still weak. The word crossed her mind, and she scowled in disgust. She wasn't weak.

Her feet hit the pavement before she even realized she had jumped. It seemed silly to be jumping out the window, but she didn't want to face Steve and whoever he had in that room. Stark wasn't going to give up, they had said. He would pursue them. 

Ava did the only thing she could think of to calm down. 

**********

Standing in the middle of the park, Ava felt relaxed. A slight mist resided, hinting at rain, but she didn't care. Tearing the bandages off her shoulder, the fabric of her tanktop now rested directly on the raw wound. Staring up at the sky, she took off at a brisk pace, running faster with every thought that entered her mind. With Karis missing, everything seemed worse. Stark wasn't going to relent. He was going to come after them, and the thought sickened her.

'The world's hero.' From what? From who?

She ran faster, the wind biting her skin as her arms pumped by her sides. Would he hurt her? Would he hurt Steve? Would he hurt Bucky? She hardly felt the pain in her shoulder or the screaming of her lungs as she poured on another burst of speed. Fear was gone...but was he ever the real enemy? Were they being attacked from the inside? Was this just the beginning?

She let out a small scream of frustration, stopping in the middle of the path as rain began to beat down on her skin. Ever since the gas, her nightmares had been more realistic, vivid, and they didn't just appear while she was sleeping. They flashed before her eyes now, and Ava felt the lack of air once more upon her throat. Tears sprang to her vision as she fell to her knees.

"It's not fair!" she hissed to herself.

She felt so alone, not sure who to trust. Was caring a mistake? Would she only lose the people she loved? 

The rain came down in torrents, soaking her to the bone, hair falling loose about her face. She didn't move for some time, her panic slowly receding. She was supposed to have gone to Tony's with Steve that evening, but at the last second, she'd backed out. Ava struggled to her feet and stumbled forward, feet sloshing in puddles. Slowly, she resumed a jog, running through the night until, like her physical pain, she could no longer feel the fear eating away inside her.

A couple of hours later, a dark, morning light appeared to accompany the rain, and Ava wiped the hair away from the front of her face.

"Getting tired?" a voice behind her asked. 

She whipped about to see Sam running behind her. "What are you doing here?"

"I like to run in the mornings."

"In the rain?" she asked incredulously. 

"Actually, yes. I think it's refreshing."

She said nothing, and he momentarily joined her at her side.

"And you?" he asked.

"What...?"

"What are you doing here?"

She swallowed and glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. "Same as you," she muttered with a weak smile. "It's refreshing!"

He laughed genuinely and nodded.

"I'm about done, though," she murmured, casting her voice loud enough to be heard over the rain.

"Quitter!" he teased. 

She punched his arm and veered off the path, rubbing the water out of her eyes.

"Ava," he called, following her.

"Yeah?"

"Steve called me last night." 

"Okay?" she asked, tilting her eyebrow.

"Said you weren't there. And he wanted to know where you were."

"Running," she smirked, taking off again towards the street.


	3. Chapter 3

The night was endless, and Karis lay there in silence, her tears staining the rug. Her fingers curled against the soft velvet, and she didn’t bother to move, lying there until exhaustion finally overtook her. But her rest was uneasy and fraught with interruptions, visions of monsters and phantom figures haunting her dreams. There was always someone creeping up behind her and planting a dagger in her back. There was always a betrayal. 

**********

When morning came, her lids fluttered open as a result of the bright sunlight shining through her open window. Jarred by the sight of an unfamiliar, arched ceiling, Karis bolted upright. Head spinning, her eyes swiveled frantically over her surroundings, which were bathed in golden light. She had somehow moved from the floor to the bed, with no recollection of how she had gotten there. Her coat had been neatly folded and draped over a nearby chair, but she was still wearing the same blue dress from the night before. 

Slowly, the events came drifting back to her, and Karis’ heart sank, a familiar ache returning to her gut. Asgard. Resignedly, she slid out from under the silken sheets and wandered over to the window. The long, lonely shadows from the previous night had vanished, leaving a sparkling, celestial city in its wake. Karis blinked several times to ensure that she wasn’t dreaming, her eyes wide in awe. Glittering spires, shimmering seas, a rainbow road—this was a far cry from the gloom of Hell’s Kitchen. 

A strange sense of familiarity, of deja vu, washed over her as her fingers drifted across the white curtains. Frightened, Karis dropped her hands immediately to her sides and turned away. She was surprised to find that the door now stood open and a young woman had appeared, wearing simple yet elegant amber robes. She was carrying an emerald green gown in her arms, and her doe-like features were apologetic.

“Pardon me, mistress, but the king has requested your presence.”

Karis couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow. “The king?”

“Why, King Loki of course,” the girl ventured hesitantly. She seemed unsure of how to respond.

Staring at her blankly, a thousand thoughts raced through Karis’ mind. Loki was a king? If he was royalty, and she had known him…what did that make her? Unwilling to follow any of her theories through to conclusion, she took a cautious step forward, and the maidservant carefully delivered the gown into her waiting arms. 

“Would you like some assistance—?”

“No.”

Her response emerged more harshly than she had intended, but Karis was far too disconcerted to bother with an apology. Receiving the message loud and clear, the maidservant gave a quiet curtsy before swiftly retreating from the room. Left alone once again, Karis spread the gown across the bed and stared at it in silence. Loki’s “gift” was not without meaning—of that she was certain. But which was it: a display of respect and dignity, or was it a command, a reminder that he was in charge here? He had sent a servant to retrieve her as if she could be summoned upon a whim, implying that she had no choice but to do his bidding. 

This last thought caused deep-seated anger to begin simmering inside her once again, and she stubbornly swept the dress into her arms, striding across the room and shoving it into the drawer of a nearby dresser. Sighing, Karis stepped back and swept her hair behind her ear, feeling somewhat satisfied with herself. After all, who was he to drag her off to some foreign place against her will? 

Turning, she wandered through an open doorway that led to what could only be described as a washroom. There was a round golden basin that stood on four tall, narrow legs, and Karis went over to it, splashing the cool water onto her face and taking several deep breaths. Feet padding on the smooth tiles, she returned to the bedroom, where she stopped and stared hopelessly at the locked door. She was completely, utterly alone. 

Desperate and irrational, Karis hurried over to her coat, which was still draped over the back of a chair, and thrust her hand into the right side pocket. Withdrawing her cellphone, she was fully prepared to dial Matt’s number with the utmost urgency, only to discover that there was no cellphone service in Asgard. Of course there wasn’t. With a cry of frustration, she hurled it against the wall, where it shattered into pieces. 

Dismayed by her own strength, Karis sank onto the bed, her back facing the door. She looked down at her hands, which she held palm-side up. She didn’t know herself anymore. Loki clearly knew more about her than anyone else did, but she wasn’t sure that she wanted to hear his answers. What if awareness was worse than ignorance? 

She swallowed the lump in her throat and shook her head miserably. “What am I?” she whispered. 

“You’re an Asgardian.”

Stunned, Karis sprang to her feet and spun to face the door. Loki stood there, his face impassive. She stared at him with wide eyes, her mouth hanging slightly open. For several moments, neither of them said a word.

“That’s not true,” she uttered finally. 

“The time for denial has come to an end, Karis. Embrace who you are. Be proud. It is nothing to be ashamed of.” 

Her hands were shaking at her sides. “So they were right then—Stark, Rogers—all of them. I’m some sort of alien freak.”

“No,” said Loki, “you are far more than that.”

He was advancing steadily towards her, and she eyed him warily. 

“You are stronger, faster, wiser, and more powerful than they could ever hope to be.”

Unnerved by the eager gleam in his eyes, Karis took a step back, and he stopped, sensing her alarm. 

“I was planning to divulge this knowledge to you in a more gradual manner than this, but it appears that you require a more...immediate response.” 

She shifted uneasily, not wanting to believe him but sensing that he was indeed telling the truth. Confidently, he extended a hand. 

“Come with me.”

“Where are we going?” she inquired uncertainly. 

The slightest of smiles played across his lips. “For a walk.” 

**********

For the first time since she had arrived in Asgard, Karis was allowed to venture beyond the confines of her new living quarters. She was accompanied by Loki of course, but she appreciated the decent amount of trust it required for her to wander the halls of what she now realized was a grand palace. Massive arches along with thick, round columns lined many of the golden passages, and she gazed up at them in awe. She was beginning to imagine growing up here—what it might have been like. 

Loki strode alongside her in a rather self-assured manner, obviously unconcerned by the fact that she was without restraints of any kind. He gestured to a number of rooms as they passed, indicating their purpose, who lived there, and what their occupation was. Karis listened intently, overwhelmed but intrigued by the information she was receiving. They were the subjects of several stares from other Asgardians, and she wondered what exactly was so conspicuous. Was it her? 

“Why are they staring?” she hissed through scarcely parted lips.

“They remember you,” Loki answered quietly. “Many of them believed that you would never return to us after—” he caught himself, “—after what happened.”

She cast a suspicious glance in his direction. “And what happened exactly?”

“One matter at a time,” he responded evasively. “An Asgardian can live for thousands of years, during which a multitude of events can occur. Your life is no different.”

“Wait.” Karis’ hand shot out and brought them both to a halt. Slowly, she turned to face him. “What did you just say?”

Loki observed her silently, a flicker of amusement in his eyes.

“How old am I?” she demanded. 

“Take a wild guess.”

“No, I won’t,” she snapped. “Tell me!”

He paused for dramatic effect as she anxiously awaited a reply. 

“One thousand and twenty-seven.”

Karis gaped at him in stunned silence. She couldn’t think of a single thing to say, and her lips refused to move. 

“Don’t worry,” he smirked, “that is quite young for an Asgardian.”

“Somehow I’m not comforted,” she remarked dryly as they resumed walking. 

How was this possible? How could she have lived for an entire millennium and not remember it? 

“I know that this is a lot for you to take in,” he said, watching her out of the corner of his eye. 

That was an understatement, one she didn’t feel even slightly inclined to respond to at the moment. The sheer magnitude of her own age was enough to strike her dumb for some time. She had forgotten so many things—incredible things. She could only imagine what other secrets were in her past just waiting to be discovered.


	4. Chapter 4

The noise echoed through the hallway, and Steve stopped, swallowing. Bucky rotated, and Ava scrunched up her forehead in confusion. 

"Answer it..." Bucky urged.

They were in the hallway of an apartment complex, headed to see Wanda. Steve had said it was important, and he wanted them along. Now, his face was deathly pale, and she saw his fingers shake as he pulled the phone out and stared at the name on the screen. 

"Hello?"

His face grew paler by the second, but he stood solemnly. "Yes...thank you. Yes, we were. I...I see. Of course she would have. Thank you."

He hung up the phone and closed his eyes.

"Steve?" Bucky asked, taking a step closer as his friend sank to the floor, back to the wall. He knelt next to Steve and gently laid a hand on his friend's shoulder.

Ava stood uncomfortably, unsure what to do. 

"They said...they said it wasn't painful."

"You knew it was coming," Bucky murmured. "She was happy."

His face was as uncomfortable as hers, a look of confusion in his eyes.

"I know you don't remember, Buck...it's okay."

"What's happened?" Ava finally asked.

Steve glanced up, as though realizing for the first time that she was still present. "A..." he cleared his throat, "a friend of mine has...passed away."

"Steve...I'm sorry."

He nodded his head silently and then stood. "We have um...we should go meet Maximoff."

He rubbed his neck wearily and stared at the phone silently for a moment. Bucky watched Ava out of the corner of his eye, confusion swirling in both of their gazes. Steve led the way, rapping swiftly on the door. Wanda opened it with a smile, but it soon faded upon seeing Steve's strained expression. 

Bucky's hand slipped into Ava's, and she glanced up at him curiously before they followed him into the apartment. Wanda gestured for them to sit anywhere, and she watched as Steve sank into the couch, rubbing his palms on his jeans.

"It's good to see you all again," she smiled. 

Ava smiled warmly, trying to ease the tension. "I thought you were staying at Stark's?" she inquired.

"That was only temporary. As is this..." Wanda gestured to the tiny apartment. 

Bucky placed his hand on Ava's shoulder as she sank into a chair, him standing behind it protectively. 

"So, I guess we should discuss-"

There was another knock on the door, and Steve stood, motioning to Wanda that he would get it.

"Come on in, Scott," she heard him mutter as the door swung open.

A man with dark brown hair and a half smile entered the doorway, shaking Wanda's hand. Bucky glanced at Steve, who gave him a brief nod. 

Ava nodded to him. "Hi. I'm Ava."

"Scott. We've met once before."

She raised an eyebrow and glanced around the room skeptically. "I don't think so..."

"No, we have. The night you tried to escape from the Avengers facility."

Her thoughts drifted back to that horrid day, and she remembered the mysterious third man she couldn't place. "Oh...yes...I do remember that..."

She shifted uncomfortably, and Steve sat, clearing his throat. "I figured introductions needed to be made. Since you might be working together."

"Working together?" Ava inquired as Scott leaned against the wall.

"Let me explain." He proceeded to discuss what Ava was already expecting. "Tony...Stark. Well, most of you know that he and I are a little at odds since Bucky's return." He gestured to his best friend with a pause. "Stark's views differ from my own."

Ava turned slightly to give Bucky a smile. He didn't see her; his intense gaze was focused on Steve. She couldn't help studying his strong jaw and the passion that lurked in his eyes, or the way his dark hair fell over his forehead. Turning back to Steve, she saw the pain behind his eyes.

"Stark has threatened the saftey and freedom of innocent people. Those who may be different, extraordinary. What drove it home most clearly, I suppose...were his threats to Bucky."

Bucky's hand slid over her shoulder, and she saw the hardened, intense anger. 

"Cap, what can we do?" Wanda asked, spreading her hands.

"You all, me, whoever else disagrees with Tony--we'll do what we can to counter him."

"He wants a war," Bucky murmured.

Eyes drifted to him slowly, and Cap cleared his throat. "Yes...Stark wants a war."

**********

"Steve?" 

She knocked on his door gently and pushed it open. He was kneeling by his bed, wearing a white t-shirt and sweatpants, eyes shut tightly. In his curled fingers was a picture of a woman.  
The pain in his face was obvious; he looked to be on the verge of tears. A soft light still slipped through the window, illuminating every crease in his face. Finally, he opened his eyes, staring at the picture silently.

Her heart beat fast within her chest, and she slowly backed out of the room, feeling as though she had walked in on something she should not have seen. Bucky was sitting at the table, a notebook in his hand, pen hovering over the pages.

"What's that?" she asked, sidling up to him.

He quickly shut the book and stared at her with wide eyes. "It's nothing."

She creased her brow and slid into the chair opposite him. "Nothing?"

"It's nothing, Ava. Okay?"

"Fine."

He watched her eyes grow angry, and he grimaced, shoving the book aside. Running a hand through his hair, he stood, leaving the room with a sigh. She rested her head on her arms and stared at the wooden table. While they lived in the past, she felt trapped in the present.


	5. Chapter 5

“Where were you?”

“My affairs are not your concern.” 

“You will not walk away from me—”

A hand on her arm—forcing her to face him. His eyes were fierce, strands of golden hair tossing about his frenzied features. 

“Unhand me, you brute!” she snapped, fighting to tear herself from his grasp. 

“You think I don’t know what you’re doing—where you’re going?!” he bellowed.

“As if you care,” she sneered venomously. “You’re a pig, wallowing in the mud with the rest of them.” 

Viciously, he swung, and there was a blinding flash. 

**********

She bolted upright, eyes wide and her chest heaving. She was drenched in a cold sweat, her head pounding. Who was that man? What had she just seen? Terrified, Karis sat alone in the bed, knees hugged to her chest. 

It was still dark out, and the air was quiet. A soft breeze swept over the curtains and ruffled her hair, but its caress provided no comfort. All she wanted was to be wrapped in Matt’s warm embrace, to forget the nightmares that never ceased haunting her. But he wasn’t there. A dismal voice in the back of her mind whispered that he never would be, but she refused to believe it. 

Loki had been accommodating and willing enough to answer her questions, she supposed, but the door remained locked. She was still being treated like a prisoner. He claimed to have known her, but he clearly didn’t trust her. Karis couldn’t blame him, considering the fact that she didn’t even trust herself. She knew that many of the events she was witnessing in her dreams were indeed connections to her past; however, she hardly recognized herself in them. 

She couldn’t seem to stifle the tongue of this cold, harsh woman. Could it really be her? The prospect was terrifying. Loki had said that those inside the palace recognized her. Perhaps that was why they were staring—they remembered her cruelty.

Releasing a shuddery breath, she lay back down and stared forlornly out the window, knowing that sleep was now far out of her reach. 

**********

“Karis, there's someone I would like for you to meet.”

She glanced up at him uncertainly as they walked the halls of the palace late the next morning. A thousand possibilities raced through her mind, and her heart beat faster. 

“All right,” she murmured finally.

“Don’t worry,” Loki assured her. “She’s a friend.”

They left the cavernous passage and entered a small room that was dimly lit by torches on the walls. There was a desk stacked with papers and several shelves overflowing with various books and documents. Sitting in a chair with her feet propped on this same desk was a woman whose face was shrouded by the hood of a purple cloak. She was wearing a silver breastplate and silver boots along with armored golden sleeves and black leather pants. She glanced up as they came in, and Karis glimpsed a pair of violet eyes and pale features beneath the hood. 

“By the stars…it really is you.”

Karis watched nervously as she stood and tossed her reading material aside.

“I was sure Loki was trying to pull one over on me, but it’s true.”

She approached them, and Karis shifted uneasily, looking to Loki for reassurance. He gave a barely perceptible nod. 

“Welcome back,” the woman said with a sly smirk, coming to stand directly in front of Karis and folding her arms over her chest. 

Karis was reluctant to meet her gaze and found it much easier to instead focus on the light flickering against the far wall. The woman’s smirk faded, and her eyes widened slightly. 

“Wow…Zelia really did a number on you, didn’t she?”

Instinctively, Karis’ eyes snapped in her direction. “Who?” 

“That’s enough,” Loki warned. 

The woman looked at him curiously, realization dawning on her. “You haven’t told her?” 

“She isn’t ready,” he responded tightly, his jaw clenched. 

“Haven’t told me what?” Karis demanded, her frustration building. 

“Now is not the time, Karis,” he answered calmly, attempting to assuage her anger. 

The mysterious woman blinked and was silent, processing this new information, but Karis was fuming, fists clenched at her sides. 

“Please,” Loki implored, extending a hand, “have patience. All will be revealed in time.” 

Still simmering with indignation, Karis attempted to slow her breathing and turned back to face the woman, whose expression was now apologetic.

“Forgive my ignorance,” she said, assuming a formal posture. “I’m Adva.”

“Adva’s abilities include those of a magical nature as well as an aptitude for gathering information,” Loki explained, eager to change the subject. 

Another magic-user, Karis thought. Apparently, such capabilities were not as uncommon in Asgard as they were on Earth. 

“My...what have we here? I appear to have interrupted a meeting.”

In unison, they turned to see a silhouetted form standing in the open doorway, and Karis’ attention was immediately drawn to a pair of glowing red eyes. The figure was tall and slender, robed in deep purple and wearing a black cape with a flared collar. 

“Not at all,” Loki replied graciously, making way for the stranger’s entry.

Karis eyed him warily as he strode confidently into the room, hands clasped behind his back. His unsettling eyes were fixed on her face, and she didn’t dare look away.

“Karis, this is D’Chel,” said Loki.

She couldn’t help but notice that he had positioned himself strategically between her and the newcomer, and she wondered why. 

“A pleasure,” smiled D’Chel, extending his hand.

Expecting a handshake, she responded by placing hers in his. She was alarmed, however, when he raised it to his lips and planted a cold kiss on the back of her hand.

“It’s been too long,” he said, releasing her hand, which she drew back to herself rather quickly.

Karis blushed, averting her gaze, and D’Chel chuckled. 

“I hardly recognize her!”

“Much has transpired since her disappearance,” Loki injected solemnly, a disapproving edge in his voice. 

“I certainly don’t recognize you,” Karis remarked, the quip springing from her mouth before she had bothered to consider its potential consequences. 

A smile tugged at the corner of Loki’s lips, and D’Chel unexpectedly burst into laughter. 

“There she is!”

She took a certain amount of satisfaction in seeing Loki's smile, but D’Chel’s amusement did not please her. She had intended it far more as an insult rather than a playful jest. She had become annoyed with the sympathetic observations and them lording their knowledge over her.

Sensing that she had tired of pleasantries and was being overwhelmed by her new acquaintances, Loki stepped forward and assumed control of the situation. 

“Yes, we are all quite relieved that our lost comrade has returned to us, but now she and I have other business that we must attend to.” 

He motioned towards the door, and Karis followed his lead. 

“Making up for lost time?” D’Chel called slyly.

The comment went entirely over her head but drew a stern glance from Loki. 

“Perhaps,” he responded flatly before the door clanged shut behind them.

“I don’t like him,” Karis remarked as they started walking. 

Amused, Loki smirked. “Neither do I. Nevertheless, for the time being, he is our ally.”

She raised an eyebrow. “For the time being?” 

“Things change,” he replied casually. “The future is always in motion. Loyalties are no different.” 

“That’s a rather cynical view of the world.” 

“Is it not true?”

She was unable to answer his question, so she began to process his words in silence. As always, her thoughts drifted back to the previous conversation—to the secrets. To the things they were hiding from her. 

“Loki,” she began firmly, gazing up at him, “I’m growing tired of this deception. I’m tired of everyone I meet knowing more about me than I do. I want you to tell me the truth.”

Stopping, he looked her in the eye. “Everything I have told you is true, even though I haven't told you all of it.” 

“I have a right to know,” she protested, her voice growing louder. “I have a right to know who’s trying to kill me, and I have a right to know why!”

He sighed heavily but continued to speak calmly. “In due time, Karis. You are not ready to hear it yet.” He paused before adding imploringly, "I’m asking you to trust me.” 

“Unlock the door,” she said simply.

Blinking, Loki’s brow furrowed in confusion. “What?”

Her eyes were narrowed as they gazed unfalteringly into his. “Every day, and every night, you lock me in my room like a prisoner. Unlock the door, and then we can talk about trust.” 

He stared at her silently for several moments, contemplating her proposition. Finally, his expression softened, and he withdrew a key. As he pressed it into her open palm, their eyes met, and Karis felt some of her anger dwindle away. This was a deal, but more than that. It was a promise—a vow of trust. 

He had held up his end of the bargain, and now it was her turn to do the same.


	6. Chapter 6

"What are you doing here?" she spat, staring up into his chocolate eyes.

"I'm not here to see you. Don't worry, doll," Tony winked.

"Get out." She shoved his shoulder, pushing him out onto the porch.

"I'm here to speak to Barnes, all right?"

She narrowed her eyebrows and felt Bucky standing behind her.

"What's going on here?" His voice was violent, accusatory.

"Barnes, I'd just like to speak to you."

"No, Buck...don't," she murmured quietly, staring defiantly into Stark's eyes.

Bucky kissed the top her head and moved past her onto the porch.

"Bucky! Ugh!"

Tony smirked and shut the door, leaving her standing there with boiling anger. She strode quickly across the room, grabbing the pillow off the couch and hurling it across the room with a muffled shriek. Plopping angrily onto the cushion, she folded her arms over her chest. Ava knew what Stark could do. She knew this was bad news.

Her angry turned to worry when he didn't return. Thirty minutes had passed, and she began to pace restlessly, her head throbbing. Why hadn't he come back? Stark couldn't be saying anything that important. Three times, she had thrown open the door but found them nowhere in sight. Finally she gave up, leaving the apartment and taking a long walk.

When she returned, her heart beat anxiously, hoping he would return as angry at Stark as she was. Steve sat at the table, reading a newspaper when she entered.

"Is Bucky here?"

Steve didn't look up but nodded. "He's in his room." 

She smiled and walked down the hallway, knocking on his door. He didn't answer, but she heard a muffled cry from within. Slowly, she creaked open the door. He sat on the floor of his bedroom, hair wet from a shower, shirt off, clutching his metal arm and groaning to himself. 

"Bucky?" she whispered breathlessly, lips parting as her eyes widened.

Someone placed a hand on her waist, and she turned, surprised, into Steve's chest.

"Steve, what's wrong with him?" she murmured as he led her from the room.

"Stay here," he commanded, turning on her and closing the door to Bucky's room.

"GET OUT!" Bucky's voice sounded foreign and different, though muffled. 

The sound of something crashing sent her flying to the door. "BUCKY!" she cried, throwing it open.

Steve stood solemnly, broken glass surrounding him, Bucky at his feet, clutching his jeans.

"I don't know what's real...I don't know, Steve."

Steve motioned her over, and she knelt by Bucky's side, laying a hand on his bare shoulder. He didn't move, teeth bared, eyes closed.

"Talk to him," Steve whispered.

Slowly, she placed a hand under his chin, turning his face toward her own. "Bucky...Bucky?"

His eyes were mere slits, a look of pain so deep upon his face.

"I'm real," she whispered, leaning in and pressing her lips to his.

He didn't move for a moment, but slowly, he lifted a hand, burying it in her hair. He let go of Steve's jeans and took her into his arms, letting her curl against his chest, with his arms around her. Steve smiled and sat beside them, his back to Bucky's.

"What's real?" he whispered again.

"You love the colors of fall," Steve murmured, resting his head against Bucky's. 

Ava listened silently as Steve recalled to Bucky all the things he loved most.

"You used to read poetry sometimes. You would never admit it in front of a girl, though. You love the smell of coffee."

She could feel his heart beating in his chest wildly. "Bucky?" she finally whispered.

His chin rested on the top of her head so she couldn't see his eyes, but he squeezed her hand gently.

"I'm sorry..." she finished. He didn't say anything for a moment, but she felt him tense.

"Are you real, Ava?" he whispered, voice filled with anxiety.

She smiled to herself and wrapped his arms tighter around her. "Yeah..."

"Bucky, can you tell us what happened this afternoon?" Steve asked cautiously.

"No." 

His harsh voice startled her so that she felt the urge to pull away. He didn't reach out for her, and she looked him in the eye. "What happened, Bucky?"

"I don't want to talk about it," he murmured, lowering his head.

Steve stood and motioned for her to do the same. "All right, buddy. Why don't we leave you alone for a bit?"

He didn't say anything, and Ava reluctantly followed Steve out of the room. They found Clint standing in the living room, hands on his hips. Coming to an abrupt halt, Steve looked upon Hawkeye in surprise.

"I thought you went home to see your kids. How'd--how'd you get in here?"

"Door was unlocked," he shrugged. He caught Ava's eye, giving her a characteristic smile with a wink.

She managed a small smile herself, her thoughts preoccupied.

"Yeah...I was going to see the kids, but I heard something today."

"What is it, Clint?" Steve asked solemnly, gesturing for him to sit. Cap's blonde hair fell over his forehead as his bright eyes gazed inquisitorially at the guest.

"It's about Bucky."

Automatically, Ava glanced back at his bedroom.

"What about him?"

The room seemed tense with the awkward silence as Clint cleared his throat. "I heard Stark came to see him."

"Yes..." Ava murmured, coming to sit beside Steve.

"Stark played his weakness," Clint confirmed.

"What do you mean?" Ava asked.

"His memory, Ava," Clint explained. "Bucky doesn't know who to trust or what the right side is. He's confused. Stark played on that. Making Steve out to be the bad guy here."

Steve's fingers curled around the armrest angrily.

Ava felt lost in a void of thought. "But...he's Steve's best friend. He knows--he knows he can trust us--trust me--right?" she asked with wide eyes.

"Ava, you should understand. Do you feel like you can trust me or Steve a hundred percent? You don't have to answer; I know you don't. Multiply that by ten for Bucky."

Guilt swirled inside her, because it was her fault, after all, that he was like this.

"You just have to remind him."

Steve stood suddenly and grabbed his jacket before storming out of the apartment. Ava's eyes grew wide as she saw anger building inside him.

"Steve can't put up with it. Barnes is all he has." Clint shook his head with a sigh.

"Do you think he forgets?" Ava murmured.

"Steve?"

"No. Bucky."

"Forgets what?"

"Things...not just the past...the present. Do you think he could forget me?"

Clint watched her expression fall with each word and stood, coming to sit beside her. "No, Ava. I don't think he can."

She glanced up at him nervously and nodded. "He has a book...he won't let me read it," she shrugged. 

"Then don't. He'll show you soon enough."

"He broke down this afternoon, Clint." She clasped her hands tightly together.

"Everything's gonna work out," he murmured.

His words sank in, and she got to her feet. "Are you kidding?" she sneered.

"What?" He seemed caught off guard.

"Things don't just work out as if by magic. Things happen. Things go wrong. This ain't a fairy tale." 

"Ava-"

"No, just stop it. I'm not playing games here."

Her sharp words were left to hang in the air as she stormed to Steve's room, slamming the door.


	7. Chapter 7

That evening, as darkness descended over Asgard, Karis lay silently atop the silken sheets of her bed, staring up at the metallic key that she twirled between her fingers. The boredom caused by her confinement was becoming unbearable, and her desire to explore the palace was becoming more difficult to suppress with each passing moment. It was impossible to escape, she knew, but perhaps there was something within these walls that would prove to be of value to her. Answers to her questions. Knowledge about her past. A way to control her powers. 

After all, by providing her the key, wasn’t Loki giving her permission to do as she pleased?

She was rationalizing, but her current situation was driving her mad. Unable to resist temptation any longer, Karis rose and swung her legs over the side of the bed. Her scarlet Asgardian gown trailed the floor as she stood, placed her key on the bedside table, and moved to the door. It creaked far too loudly as it swung open, and she grimaced. Cautiously, she poked her head out into the dimly lit corridor. 

She was relieved to see nothing but torches flickering against the golden walls, and she emerged quietly into the hall. Where to go first—left or right? Not hesitating for long, Karis instinctively headed for the passage to her right. She kept to the shadows, often waiting behind columns until the guards had passed by. She wasn’t quite certain why she felt so guilty—Loki had given her the key. Surely he had known that she would leave her quarters? 

Eventually, she came to the foot of a staircase that led to an upper floor. Driven on by curiosity, Karis ascended it and traveled through yet another corridor. Most of the doors she passed by were closed, but there was one that stood invitingly open. Pausing, she considered for several moments before venturing cautiously inside. 

Books. Stacks upon stacks. Rows upon rows. Shelves upon shelves of books. They towered to the ceiling and stretched beyond what Karis could see, vanishing into the shadows beyond. There were tables too, scattered with all sorts of flasks, bottles, and other vessels containing various liquids and substances. 

She walked carefully amongst them, moonlight filtering in from a window high above and shining across worn, dusty pages. The glassware glistened, and Karis found the musty smell of the place to be strangely pleasant. The scent of old parchment mixed with that of numerous kinds of flowers and other plant-life, creating an aroma unique to a library that also served as some sort of alchemy station. 

Taking a seat at one of the desks, she opened a book selected at random and began flipping through the pages. Runes—she had no hope of reading them. Suddenly, white-hot energy shot through her fingers, and the strange symbols zipped past in front of her at incomprehensible speeds. She was hearing words that she didn’t understand, and her skull suddenly felt as if it were about to split in two. 

When she came back to herself, Karis gasped in horror—the book was on fire. It fell from her hands and struck the table’s wooden surface as she shoved her chair backwards in panic. A thousand thoughts raced through her mind in those few, terrifying seconds: what was she going to tell Loki? How was she going to explain her way out of this? How severe would her punishment be? 

In an instant, all of those thoughts were abruptly silenced as a wave of ice-cold air cascaded over the room, snuffing out the flames and stealing Karis’ breath from her lungs. She was frozen to the chair, too frightened to move, too petrified to turn and discover the source of the spell. 

“Might I offer a bit of advice?”

She knew that voice all too well, and she closed her eyes with dread. 

“If you’re going to start a fire, the library is probably not the best location to choose.” 

His boots clicked on the stone floor as he drew near, and she grimaced, her fingers tightening around the edge of the seat. She could ignore him no longer once he finally came and stood directly in front of her. However, when she glanced up fearfully into his glittering blue eyes, she saw not anger, but amusement. 

“I-I’m sorry,” she stammered. “It was an accident. I was only going to read when—”

“I know,” he smirked. “I saw everything.” 

Her cheeks burned scarlet with anger and embarrassment as her gaze narrowed into a glare. “What? How long were you standing there?!”

“Long enough,” he replied, gently picking up the book and reorganizing its singed pages before replacing it on the table.

“You’re not angry, then.”

He looked at her, a twinkle of mischief in his pale orbs. “I would’ve been disappointed if you had wasted an opportunity that was so clearly presented to you.” 

Incredulous, Karis rose swiftly from her chair. “You did this on purpose. You set me up!”

“I wanted to see if you would seek answers for yourself,” he responded calmly, “and you did.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she exclaimed. “What was the point?”

“It means that you’re ready for the next step,” he explained, raising his chin and clasping his hands behind his back. “You want to learn to control your powers. I can teach you.” 

She was stunned. She had left her room, wandered the halls of the palace unattended, almost burned down the library, and she was being rewarded? Karis shook her head.

“I don’t understand you.”

“You did once,” Loki replied in a surprisingly solemn tone. “Perhaps you will again.”

His words were hopeful, and they tugged at her. Did he truly care? Could she really be so important to him? She wanted to trust him. Friendship was a welcome addition to her lonely existence, but she found it difficult to view it as such. He had taken her as a prisoner, taken her away from everything she knew, everyone she loved. Was that the act of a friend? 

His offer to teach her, however, would be beneficial beyond measure. Never again would she harm anyone against her will. Never again would she risk hurting the man she loved most. 

“All right,” she agreed finally. “Teach me."


	8. Chapter 8

"NO, PLEASE, I TRIED!"

Ava slipped down the hall in her sock feet, desperately tearing at the walls to get to his door.

"NO MORE! NO MORE!"

She burst through the door to find Bucky on his hands and knees, sheets still wrapped around him, sobbing.

"STEVE! STEVE, HELP ME!"

She shook his shoulder desperately. "Bucky! Bucky!"

His eyes shot open, and she could hear his uneven, heavy breathing. 

"Bucky, it was a nightmare. It's okay now."

He stayed on his hands and knees, practically choking on quiet sobs. She pulled the tangled sheets away from his body to reveal the red shorts and black tank top he wore, his dark hair pulled back from his face in a ponytail.

"It's not okay," he whispered.

She brushed a strand of hair off his face, kneeling in front of him. "Yes it is. It was just a dream."

"No," his voice seemed angry, "I kept waiting...waiting for it to end. For the pain and the torture to go away. For Steve to come for me... He never came. I was alone. I was so alone."

She watched the silent tears fall down his face as she realized he spoke no longer of a dream. She helped him to his feet with much struggle and back to the bed, both sitting on the edge. The room was silent, except for his occasional sniffing. Finally, she reached up and brushed a tear from his cheek and kissed his jaw.

"I'm so sorry, Bucky."

He glanced over at her, and she self-consciously tried to smile at him. "Will you stay with me...tonight?"

She opened her mouth silently and hesitated. His bottom lip trembled, and she couldn't help but smile and nod with a blush. He climbed up into the bed and scooted over, making room for her. Resting her head against his chest, she could feel the steady beat of his heart. Ava was glad Steve wasn't home and she had this opportunity to be there for Bucky. 

He gently stroked her hair as her eyes flickered closed. "Thank you..."

"I'm always going to be here for you, Bucky," she whispered as he planted a kiss on her forehead.

"I don't know what I'd do without you."

**********

When she awoke the next morning, he was gone, and his jacket lay on the bed. With a heavy sigh, she reached out for it and grasped it with her fingers, pulling it close to her chest. Its deep scent was comforting to her, and she slid it over her tank top, wrapping it soothingly around herself. She slid out of the bed, bare feet touching the carpet, and glanced out the window. There was a knock on the door, and she turned to see Steve standing in the doorframe.

"Come out here."

She didn't hesitate at his words, quickly following him into the living room. He walked beside her and glanced down with a smirk.

"Is that Bucky's jacket?"

She blushed furiously and wouldn't meet his eyes, but gave a slight shrug. "Where is he?" she asked cautiously.

Steve sighed and didn't say anything until she saw Clint seated on the couch, head in his hands.

"Hey, Barton," she murmured with a nod in his direction.

"Morning."

She sat beside him and glanced at the TV, eyes widening.

"Though we couldn't get a word with Stark himself, we are assured that this is the best move. The billionaire has stated publicly that he is only doing what is best for the people and is backed by the government. Unfortunately, not all are on board with his decision. Here in this footage, we see some vigilantes being arrested due to their lack of cooperation with the act. As it turns out, these so-called saviors were unwilling to register with the law. Can we even trust our heroes anymore?"

Ava's mouth fell open in shock. Steve laid a hand on her shoulder, and she glanced up, eyes filling with hatred.

"I warned you," he whispered. "He wants war."

"Where's Bucky?" she repeated.

Clint laid a hand on her knee, and she whirled to face him. He merely pointed at the screen. Bucky could be seen dragging a man off by the collar towards a police car, fighting furiously to gain control of his prisoner. Ava gave a cry of shock and sprang to her feet. The location wasn't very far from where they were, and Ava would have been out the door if Steve hadn't caught her wrist.

"You can't go out there right now. Stark would say you're hindering the law and lock you up in Forty-two so fast you wouldn't have time to think."

"I CANT LET HIM DO THIS! HE'S STILL WEAK! HIS MIND DOESNT KNOW BETTER!"

"I know Ava!" Steve screamed back. "I'm going to take care of it! Stark's manipulating him, and I won't let it happen. But you stay here. I won't risk you getting locked up. You won't be any help to our side like that. It's time to take this war to Stark."

**********

She paced restlessly all afternoon, Clint's presence the only reason she hadn't bolted. Ava couldn't bear to watch the TV any longer, so Clint had flicked it off. Now he watched her with a worried expression on his face.

"Don't worry, all right? This is going to end in fighting, but Bucky isn't siding with Stark. Don't worry."

When she heard the door squeak open again, she was surprised to find Wanda stepping through.

"It's time to go. Now. Steve needs our help."

Clint was ready in an instant, bow slung over his shoulder and boots laced. Ava already had her things ready, and she sprang to Buckys room, grabbing it all and meeting them at the door. The sun had already set, and a gray-black tinge hung over the city. Ava had expected to see a fight, but the streets were calm. As calm as they could ever be, that is. Regular, congested traffic filled the streets as horns blared and people bustled through the crowds.

Wanda hailed them a taxi, and within ten minutes, they were outside Stark Tower. Promptly entering the building, Wanda wasted no time in boarding an elevator and riding to an upper floor.  
It emptied into the wide space Ava knew well, and Pepper's was the first face she saw. The strawberry blonde was sitting on a stool against the wall, tablet in hand, watching two men argue.  
Steve slammed his hand down on the counter, and Ava realized he was facing Stark, who wore a tight suit and held a drink in hand.

"Rogers, I'm afraid there's nothing you can do. Someone has to answer for these crimes, and unfortunately for you, the government likes my plan. To resist now," he smirked, "would be a rebellion. A war, perhaps."

"That's what you want," Steve sneered, teeth clenched.

"You're the one in such a foul mood, Cap," Stark laughed.

As they exited the elevator, Ava noticed two other people standing nearby. Natasha stood against the wall, arms crossed over her black t-shirt, gun pressed against her side. Rhodes stood near Pepper, a sharp look against his normally kind eyes.

"You tell me what Bucky was doing out there today and why you're playing him. Now."

"I'm not playing anyone, Steve," Stark murmured with feigned innocence. "I merely had a chat with Bucky, and he realized the only logical conclusion was the side of the law. You know, due to the fact that he himself has so many strikes against him."

"What are you saying?" Steve's ears were growing red, the anger building.

"Oh, nothing! Just that perhaps," Stark's voice lost its innocence as he, too, took on a raging tone, "he should answer for his crimes."

"Do you really think that was his fault? You know as well as I do that-"

"Steve," Stark spread his hands, "Barnes has made his choices."

"Then where is he?" Steve slammed the counter again.

At this, Ava strode forward till she stood next to Steve, staring him down. "Did you lock him up as well?" she demanded.

Stark raised his brow and gave her a slight nod. "Well, hello, Ava."

"I think you need to answer her question, Stark," Steve demanded.

"Of course not. Bucky is, for now," he winked, "at free will."

"All right, Stark. You can't go locking up people because they don't agree with you. This is not just personal anymore. If war is what you want, it's what you'll get."

Steve turned on his heel and stormed into the elevator. Clint was talking with Nat in soft tones, and she could tell by his face that he was upset. Ava thought she might've caught a glimpse of uncertainty in Natasha's eyes, but soon, her gaze was hard once again. 

"Let's go," Steve murmured to Wanda, who followed right at his heels.

Ava watched Tony a moment longer. She could hardly contain the anger she felt towards his whole person and the contemptuous look he gave her. Without saying a word, however, Ava turned and boarded with Steve. She wasn't sure why Wanda had insisted they all go, but she was certain that she was ready to do anything to help Bucky and Steve.


	9. Chapter 9

Spells had names, incantations that need not be recited aloud. Results were connected to her thoughts and emotions—the images inside her head. They returned to her naturally and swiftly, a clear indicator that she had done all of this before. Karis was disturbed by the ease with which she could hurl a chair across the room, levitate several objects at once, or incinerate anything made of wood. Trouble was, as her powers grew, so did the pounding inside her head. 

It was dull at first, almost unnoticeable, but now it had become blinding, searing, to the point where she could no longer focus. The crackling bolts of energy she was firing from her fingertips into the nearby practice dummy vanished as her hand flew to her head and her knees buckled. 

“Karis?”

“I’m fine,” she stammered, trying to catch her breath. “I’m fine.” 

Loki approached her, his brow furrowed in concern. “I’ve pushed you too far…"

“No!” she protested, straightening. “It’s not that. It’s—I don’t know—like something’s in the way, trying to stop me.”

He sighed, half turning away and rubbing the back of his neck. Her words had been more impactful than she expected, and Karis watched him anxiously. He was deep in thought, she knew, but she could not bear the silence for long. 

“What is it?” she demanded impatiently. “What’s wrong?” 

His hand dropped to his side, and he finally faced her. His expression was less than comforting. 

“It seems that the enchantment placed over your mind goes beyond memory. It is meant to impair your abilities and stifle your progress through pain. The more you fight against it, the worse it will get.” 

She frowned, feeling somewhat discouraged. “Well, there has to be some way to get rid of it, right?” 

His lips were pressed into a thin, determined line. “Possibly.” 

Karis waited hopefully as he made up his mind. At last, Loki strode purposefully past her and cast a glance over his shoulder.

“Come with me.” 

**********

She sat on the edge of the bed, hands clasped nervously in her lap as he sank into a chair directly in front of her. The door was shut, and they were alone. Loki seemed somewhat anxious himself, though she couldn’t discern why. Holding out both of his hands palm-side up, he met her gaze.

“This is the part where I need you to trust me.”

“What are you going to do?” Karis questioned uncertainly. 

He took a slow, deep breath before explaining. “I need you to open your mind to mine. A connection, a link, if you will, is required for me to enter and disrupt the enchantment.” 

“Haven’t you already done that before?” she responded somewhat bitterly. “We’ve communicated through—”

“That was different,” he interrupted calmly. “A deeper probe is necessary for this…curse to be lifted. I am not merely communicating with your mind but entering it. Do you understand?”

“I…I guess so.”

There was a lump in her throat. Sweat beaded on her brow, and her hands were trembling. This would be unlike anything she had ever experienced before. She wondered if she was ready—if she could handle it. 

“Don’t be afraid,” he said, his voice becoming surprisingly gentle. 

Swallowing hard, Karis placed her hands in his, features steeling with determination. “Do it.” 

She was desperate. She would give anything to be rid of this wretched curse. Loki’s fingers tightened around her own—they were ice-cold. He closed his eyes, focusing, and she did the same, consciously emptying her mind of every thought and leaving it wide open. For the first time, Karis became intensely aware of a life-force other than her own. 

Her surroundings vanished, and all that was left was a black void. Even the sound of her own breathing went silent, replaced by a quiet, steady humming that was strange and unfamiliar. Connection to her physical form was lost, and Karis found herself in an otherworldly, disembodied state. She was alone in the emptiness, and she began to panic. 

Suddenly, a green light pierced the darkness, floating and disembodied like herself. It was orb-like and without any recognizable features, but she felt strangely comforted by it. It soon hovered past her, however, and she pursued it. 

“Wait! Stop! Where are you going?”

It gave no reply, and Karis continued to chase after it until an unexpected obstacle rose to meet her. A black entity—tentacles growing out of the shadows and creeping toward her. Her mouth fell open in horror, and she fled in the opposite direction. On and on she ran, pursued by the monstrous creature that was becoming more human-like with each passing moment. 

Casting a frantic glance over her shoulder, Karis saw it rising, looming over her. She heard its voice, roaring like a sea of rushing waters. Desperately, she made a sharp turn in a last-ditch effort to escape, unintentionally crashing through a glowing barrier in her path. Her pursuer careened into the crackling surface and was rendered incapable of following her any longer. 

Karis did not understand what had transpired in the least; nevertheless, she was deeply relieved. She continued on her way, glancing about anxiously when she began to hear voices. Some she recognized, others not. They echoed around her and caused the ground to shudder. The entire space began to spin wildly, and Karis came to a halt, too frightened to move. 

“You think you know pain? He will make you long for something sweet as pain!”

A blinding flash. Screams of agony. She grimaced and shielded her eyes. 

“I could have done it, Father! I could’ve done it! For you! For all of us.”

“No, Loki.”

Loki? She lowered her hand in time to glimpse two grieving figures drifting farther and farther away as they were engulfed by a sea of stars.

“Some do battle; others just do tricks.”

The golden-haired man smirked arrogantly, and Karis stared at him in silence. She knew him. Somehow…

“I thought we could unite our kingdoms one day, bring about an alliance—a permanent peace.”

“You should’ve told me what I was from the beginning! Why didn’t you?!”

“You are our son, Loki, and we your family.”

“Your birthright…was to die!”

“They don’t see now, what you are capable of. One day, only when it is too late, will they understand…”

Her voice—that was her voice! There was a sudden, searing pain inside her head, and her eyes flew open. The connection was broken. Loki had released her hands, and he was breathing heavily. Sweat beaded on his brow, and his eyes were wide with alarm. All of the color had drained from his face, his lips parted in shock. 

Karis was gasping for air as she stared at him in stunned silence. She didn’t know what had happened, how, or why, but now she felt completely drained, as if all of her energy had been sucked out of her in mere seconds. 

“Why did you do that?” Loki breathed finally in a wounded voice.

She shook her head, brows furrowing in confusion. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t understand—what happened?”

He stood shakily from his chair and turned his back on her, saying nothing. 

“Loki?”

His hand shot out, silencing her, and she swallowed hard. Slowly, it was beginning to sink in. The things she had seen—those were his memories—and she had invaded them. She had forced him to relive his worst moments in excruciating detail, all at once. Her heart plummeted, and she didn’t know what to say. 

“Loki, I’m so sorry.”

“I do not require your pity,” he growled, facing her, “nor do I desire it.” 

“That’s not what I—"

“You had no right to—”

“It was an accident!” she burst, springing to her feet. “I was only trying to get away!”

He moved frighteningly close, seething with scarcely restrained fury. “And because of that, the curse remains.” 

“It didn’t work then…” she murmured, crestfallen. 

“Of course not,” he snapped. “My time was cut short.” 

“Well, perhaps if—”

“No,” he interrupted angrily, “this is through no fault of my own. If you had only possessed the strength to resist, I could’ve—”

Blinded by tears, Karis shoved past him, refusing to allow him to finish another sentence. Flinging open the door, she raced out into the hall with no intention of stopping anytime soon. He let her go, leaning heavily against the wall with his head hung low. 

It couldn’t have gone any worse.


	10. Chapter 10

Ava sat with her knees tucked up to her chest on Steve's back steps, tears dripping down her cheeks. Occasionally, she sniffed, trying not to cry, but it only made it worse. All she wanted was to talk to Bucky, and she wanted him to come back, to know he was okay, but they had no idea where he was.

"Now, there's no need for that, is there?" someone murmured behind her.

She turned, cheeks turning red, to see Scott, hands deep in his pockets. 

"H-hey...privacy..."

She turned back around, hoping he would go away. Biting her lip, she began wiping away tears, mortified that he had seen her crying. To her surprise, he didn't leave. He sat down beside her and propped his head on his knuckles.

"What's up?"

"Can't you...c-can't you just go?"

He raised his eyebrow and shrugged his shoulders. "Nah. I'd rather make you feel better."

For a moment, she was silent, just staring into his eyes.

"So what's wrong?" he urged.

"I...I don't know that I'm comfortable...comfortable...t-telling you..."

He swallowed with a nod, then scooted closer, smiling. A hint of a smile crossed her face at his persistence. 

"Bucky?" he asked curiously.

Finally, she nodded.

"Steve seemed a bit upset about it too," he laughed.

She smiled and nodded. 

"So, Barton explained it to me. You and Bucky are a thing, right?" 

He continued, taking her blush as a yes.

"And now...he's been going off and keeping secrets. He's been doing some work for Tony, am I right?"

She nodded silently.

"And you're all a little worried that Tony has him locked up? Perhaps in Forty-two?"

"Yes..." Her voice was barely a whisper.

"So, two things... First, Barton said that Stark said Bucky was exercising his free will here-"

"But he could be lying!" she burst out.

He held out a consoling hand. "I know, I know. That's what worries you. Am I right?"

He was smart enough to once again take her silence as a yes.

"The second thing is more of a question. What's Project Forty-two? I've heard it discussed a lot."

"Steve could explain it better... It's Tony's new prison. Backed by the government. Anyone who isn't complying with his new law...well...he just locks them up. In Forty-two. But...I don't think it exists."

"And why's that?" he inquired curiously, seeing her mood change. 

"Well, the whole idea is stupid." She almost laughed. "You can only get there by portals. Apparently, it's so heavily guarded that there's no chance-" she broke off with a sigh. "It's magic. And not many people know about it. Rogers told me...but apparently, it's hushed up. Magic...the whole world of stupid stuff. It just doesn't make sense. I've seen powers and all before...like Wanda's or Karis'."

"Who's Karis?"

From the way Ava's face fell, Scott instantly regretted asking. 

"Nevermind," he urged. "Keep going."

"Well...it's just different. I can almost make logical explanations for that. But...magic? I just--I can't believe in all that. I know what they say about people like-like Asgard...and Thor and Loki, but I just don't believe it."

He smiled at her and nodded. "Makes sense, I suppose. I'll be right back, okay?"

She nodded silently and watched him stand, entering back into the apartment. She stared up at the dark stars and wondered what was beyond them. Ava was quite a logical person and wasn't one to believe in things that didn't make sense or that she couldn't prove. 

A cool wind blew, causing her to shiver and wrap her arms tighter around her knees. Her selfish desires fell away for a moment as she thought of Karis. They hadn't heard any news about her or heard from Matt in a while. In fact, Matt had been silent the past few days. Ava had gotten a call from Foggy just to check up, but he couldn't say much about Matt or Karis. 

The door squeaked, and she turned, secretly glad to see Scott come back through. He smiled warmly at her and sat back down, handing her a mug and setting the other beside him.

"What's-?" She stopped as the heavenly scent of chocolate hit her nose. Lifting the cup to her lips, she closed her eyes in serenity.

"Chocolate's always good after you've been crying," he laughed.

Her eyes opened as she felt him wrap a blanket around her. "Scott, you didn't have to..."

He had his mug pressed to his lips, eyes lit up with laughter. His expression had her laughing herself.

"Thank you..." she murmured.

"We could always go look for your boyfriend, you know..."

She furrowed her brow, taking another sip. "What do you mean?"

"I mean...why couldn't we go scope out this Forty-two thing?" He stopped upon seeing her expression. "Or perhaps Stark's tower."

She stared at the dark liquid in her cup and shrugged. "He'll come back..."

He watched her silently as she struggled with self-doubt. "You don't sound sure."

"I'm-I'm not, but-but he told me we have to trust each other. I...I wanna go inside now."

Scott didn't say anything more but generously helped her to her feet and watched her slip inside. Steve sat on the couch, Wanda next to him, holding a bag of ice against his eye.

"Steve, what happened?" she murmured, setting the hot chocolate down and coming to his side.

"Turns out...Tony was ready before I was. After you three left, and I was heading back...he stopped me."

"And?"

"Well...it was about his registration. And...I threw the first punch. But...he came back hard. What's more...it was in the street. Civilians saw."

"Steve, we can't let him do this--WE CANT!"

"AVA, I'M DOING EVERYTHING I CAN!" he screamed back, face heating up with anger. "But the further I push it...without knowing where Bucky is...the worse it'll get for him."

At this moment, Scott came in, standing right behind her.

"But, Steve-"

"Ava. You'll only make this worse, okay?"

Her eyes hardened, and she clenched her jaw, trying hard not to send a quip back at him. "Eventually...you will be flat out fighting him, and you'll need our help," she whispered through clenched teeth.

She stormed through the hall and slammed the door to Bucky's room, wrapping Scott's blanket around herself tighter. She hardly slept that night, tossing and turning, her mind too upset to sleep.

**********

Around midnight, she heard her phone buzzing on the nightstand, and she sat up, blinking as the blue light filled the room.

"Bucky?" she whispered, bringing the phone to her ear.

"I'm-I'm sorry, Ava. Please come." He sounded nervous, confused, and there was the sound of scuffling in the background.

"Bucky? Where? What?"

"I need you to come...please...I'll-I'll text you an address."

He quickly hung up, and her mouth fell open in shock, but she wasted no time in getting up from the bed and slipping into some black jeans and a black long-sleeved t-shirt. As she laced up the boots, she looked over again to see her phone buzzing with his message. Her heart beat wildly as she entered into the hall and slipped out the front door, careful not to wake Clint, who had apparently fallen asleep on the couch.

**********

Ava moved quickly through side streets and alleys till she stood in front of the building. The area surrounding it was quiet and dark, everything locked up. This building, however, was well lit from the inside, obviously an office building of some sort. She had no idea why he had called her here and tentatively called out his name. When he didn't reply, she pulled out her phone and called him. Finding his phone dead, she concluded to venture forward into the building. 

Ava slipped out the front, wearing her black jeans and t-shirt, hair pulled back from her face. She took the steps two at a time, trying to ignore her splitting headache.


	11. Chapter 11

No one dared to stop her, and Karis ran on until she found herself outside the palace walls and on her knees in the midst of a garden. The sun was just beginning its descent through a blazing red sky, casting long shadows beneath the trees whose leaves rustled overhead. Exotic flowers and other vegetation growing alongside the wandering paths were bathed in an intense golden light. Everything was wrapped in an ethereal glow. 

Despite being surrounded by dazzling beauty, however, Karis remained blind to it. She was on her knees in front of an elegantly carved stone bench, face buried in the shelter of her own arms. Her eyes were shut tight, Loki’s memories still swirling vividly inside her mind. A son, always a disappointment to his father. A brother, always weaker and less loved than his sibling. But his mother—her death had shattered him completely. 

He loved her. Even when he hated the whole world, he had loved her. 

That love was proof of the light that existed inside him. Despite all of the grievous crimes he had committed—deception, betrayal, murder—there was still good in him. This gave Karis hope, not only for him, but for herself. Whatever dark things she had done in her past, perhaps there was still a chance for her to overcome them, to make things right. 

The tears continued to stream down her face, however, due to the tremendous pain she had unintentionally caused Loki to experience. What if he refused to teach her anymore? What if her training ended here? Worse, what if their friendship ended here? She hated to admit it, but she had grown quite fond of the mischievous Asgardian. Though he wasn’t even Asgardian, as it turned out—not really. He was a Frost Giant of Jotunheim, whatever that meant. 

The suffering he had endured—physical, emotional, psychological—was beyond measure. Experiencing only bits and pieces of it had left Karis weary and drained of energy. Her thoughts became sluggish as she knelt in the soft grass beside the bench. Eyes flickering open and closed, she remained there until dusk fell. Darkness descended over the garden. 

All was quiet, the moon’s silver glow illuminating the gently rustling flowers, some of which possessed their own inner light. It was a peaceful time. The Asgardians were returning home for the night and snuffing out the candles that burned in their open windows. She could hear the steady hum of their combined voices far below—families, children—fading away. Leaving her alone. 

“Why do you weep, child?”

Having grown accustomed to her solitude, Karis was startled by the voice that spoke behind her. Nearly jumping out of her skin, she spun around, back pressed against the bench. Her blood ran cold. Was she having another vision—a dream? Had she fallen asleep? She must have, for she found herself face to face with a ghost. 

It was a woman—strong, beautiful, ageless. Her form was transparent and unearthly, luminous and shimmering with blue light. Her braided hair fell in thick plaits down her back, and her silken robes trailed along the ground as she drifted closer. Her delicate feet hardly seemed to touch the grass, and her steps made no sound. 

“Who-who are you?” Karis stammered, even though in her heart, she already knew. 

Clasping her hands, the woman surveyed her surroundings. “I am the keeper of this garden.” Pausing, she gave a wry chuckle. “Well, I used to be.” 

Karis eyed her uncertainly despite the fact that she perceived no danger from this woman. Sitting up slowly, she swallowed. “You…you were his mother, weren’t you?”

Her smile vanished, and the woman solemnly looked her way, a profound sorrow in her eyes. “I understood him in ways that his father and brother never could. Loki is a fragile soul with an astute mind that is accompanied by avid ambition—a dangerous combination.” 

Karis found herself listening intently as she moved to take a seat on the bench. 

“Instead of using his talents for good, he has fallen prey to temptation and an insatiable lust for power.” 

Curiosity got the better of her, and Karis could no longer suppress the question that was gnawing at her. “Did I know you…before?”

The woman gave a slight nod. “We crossed paths now and again, though I will not conceal from you the fact that our relationship was…strained.”

Swallowing uncomfortably, Karis’ gaze dropped to the ground. “I see...” It seemed that prior to losing her memory, it had been rare for her to be on good terms with anyone. Several moments passed before she mustered her courage once again. “Why have you come to me then? Why are you telling me all of this?” 

“Because Loki is in danger,” the woman replied, urgency creeping into her voice, “and I fear that you are the only one who can save him now.” 

“Save him? From who?” 

“Himself.” The woman’s voice was low and pleading, making a last, desperate attempt to redeem her son before it was too late.

Overwhelmed and confused, Karis stared at her in stunned silence. There came a rustling at the garden’s edge, and the woman turned swiftly, her sharp eyes penetrating the darkness. 

“Someone’s coming,” she murmured. Looking back at Karis, her eyes were wide. “Remember what I have told you.”

“Wait!” Karis implored, moving towards her. “I don’t understand—”

She was gone, vanishing from the spot where she had stood only a moment before. Left standing there helplessly, Karis’ eyes drifted to the grass beneath her feet. Her outstretched hand fell to her side, and a thousand thoughts swirled inside her head. 

“Karis?”

Jumping, she spun to see D’Chel coming down the cobblestone path. 

“What are you doing out here?”

“Nothing,” she answered instinctively. 

“I heard you talking to someone,” he persisted, drawing closer. 

“Oh, it-it was just me,” she stammered, “talking to myself. Surely you understand. Everyone feels compelled to talk to themselves now and again.” 

He circled her silently, hands clasped behind his back, and Karis turned slowly, her heart pounding as she watched him. 

“You admire the garden?” he inquired, stopping several paces away with his back facing her. 

“Yes,” she replied hesitantly. “I find it peaceful.”

“I concur. It is a soothing alternative to the rest of this miserable place.”

“You don’t like Asgard?” she ventured cautiously. 

“War. Blood. Death. That is all that matters here,” D’Chel responded bitterly. “They call it ‘honor’, try to paint it as noble, yet it is nothing but senseless brutality.” 

“Were you raised here?”

“Yes,” he answered after a brief pause, “as were you. You understood the politics and the intrigue as well as anyone. You witnessed it firsthand.”

“I understand that I wasn’t particularly well-liked back then,” Karis remarked, folding her arms over her chest. 

He smirked. “That is one way of putting it.” 

“If it weren’t for Loki, I might’ve gone the rest of my life not knowing the truth.”

D’Chel finally turned to face her, his features grave. “Be careful of Loki.”

She shifted uncertainly, feeling somewhat defensive. “I am not blind. He has helped me, but I am not so foolish as to trust him completely. I know…I know that he has done things I don’t approve of.” 

“A remarkable understatement,” he laughed before becoming serious once again. “Just…make sure that he isn’t taking advantage of you—exploiting you.”

Her brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“You are powerful, Karis. More powerful than you could possibly imagine. It is likely that Loki is attempting to craft you into a weapon of his own design. Don’t let him.” 

She blinked, her heart sinking. She hadn’t considered that possibility. “I…I’ll keep that in mind.” 

“That would be wise,” he agreed. “Well, I suppose I shall take my leave. There is work to be done. Good evening, Karis.”

She nodded distractedly as he moved past her and exited the garden. Was he right? Was Loki playing her? His mother seemed to believe that he truly cared about her, that she was the only one who could save him—whatever that meant. He had already killed and betrayed so many people—what if he was past the point of saving? 

Yet he had trained her, was claiming to protect her from those who sought to harm her. Was it a ruse? Could it be that he was only preparing her as a weapon, a tool to carry out his plans without question? She had not gotten that impression, but perhaps she was being naive, trusting too quickly. 

There was no harm in maintaining wise caution, Karis decided. Perhaps she was wrong about Loki and the goodness inside him. She hoped she wasn’t, but only time would tell.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter written by Hannah Lester.

She placed her hand on the front door and pushed it open, fingers trembling. 

"Bucky?" she whispered, surprised to find it open.

There was a wide, long hall, illuminated by sterile white light, desks scattered. A yell came from up above, and Ava clicked her gun, seeing an elevator at the far side of the long room.  
Her heart pounded as she stepped inside, following the sounds of a fight. Stepping out, Ava realized she was on a raised platform, overlooking another long room with desks about, often overturned.

Her breath caught in her throat as she heard the scream and saw Bucky fly against the floor, head slamming against a wall. Natasha sent her knee into his chest, gun against his forehead. He kicked his legs out without a moment's hesitation to the cool metal on his skin, and she tumbled off. He was on his feet once more, walking swiftly in the opposite direction. As he did so, she clambered to her feet and launched herself at him from behind. Her feet wrapped around his neck, sent him stumbling forward. He whipped about, planting her back on a table and pressed his thumbs into her neck as she struggled for breath.

Ava heard her mumble out his name, face turning red, hands grasping his metal one. A young, dark skinned man suddenly appeared out of seemingly nowhere with a swift kick to Bucky's back, causing him to release Natasha and stumble. Ava cocked her gun and jumped over the railing, landing in front of him, gun pointed into his face. The man stopped, stepping back, arms raised slightly. Bucky stumbled to his feet, wiping the blood from his lip.

"Ava...you don't get in on this..."

Suddenly, Bucky grunted, dropping to one knee, and Ava heard a piece of glass shatter far above their heads, Natasha's bullet over-aimed. The man took this opportunity to sweep Ava's legs out from under her, and she screamed as her head struck the ground, stars swimming before her. He planted a knee and drove his thumb into her neck. Tears escaped her lids as she struggled to bring air into her lungs.

Bucky sent his fist into the man's head and immediately turned, sending a swift kick into Natasha's stomach. Ava scrambled to her feet and sent a bullet flying into the man's shoulders, still gasping for oxygen. He screamed, falling backwards, and Bucky wrapped his arm around her waist as she stumbled, dizziness overtaking her. Upon turning, Ava realized Natasha was sprawled unconscious on the floor. 

"T-Tony's here," he murmured, glancing down into her face, weary and out of breath. "I never would have called you...if I knew."

"I can help you, Buck..." she promised.

He released her waist and motioned her forward, slowly, toward a set of stairs that led to another upper platform. He moved swiftly, and she followed more hesitantly, gun raised and ready. Suddenly, a blast sent her flying into a far wall and then rolling off the stairs to the floor below. Her eyes opened wide as Tony jumped beside her and stopped his palm a mere couple inches above her face. 

Her heart beat wildly, eyes wide as she realized how far her gun had slid. She could hear Bucky's cry as he jumped over the barrier, landing on Tony's shoulders. She cried out in pain as he crashed into her, Bucky's knee driven into his back. All of the breath left her lungs, and she struggled to kick Tony off. A flash blinded her as she felt heat burning her face. A terrible scream left her throat as she felt her skin bubble, and she could barely hear the cry of rage leave Bucky's lips. Tony was shoved off, and Ava began to lose consciousness, vaguely aware of Bucky pummeling Stark against the tile. Natasha still lay unmoving, and the second man had disappeared as far as she could tell.

Time seemed endless as she lay in a curled ball, whimpering from the severity of the pain in her face and gut. Through blurry vision, she watched as Tony and Bucky dueled with one another, evenly matched. Finally, Bucky sent his metal fist crashing against Tony's skull so that the man staggered, finally falling. Bucky seized the moment, picking Ava up and escaping from the building.

She couldn't see anymore, and screams occasionally left her lips as the pain would overwhelm. Through her haze of consciousness, she could hear the unevenness of his breathing, the moans and grunts that left his lips. Finally, she felt him collapse onto his knees, and she slid her eyes open enough to see herself lying against his side as he weakly reached and rapped against a door. Struggling to keep her eyes open, Ava watched as Steve came to the door and dropped to their side, calling Clint's name in a panicked rush. She was lifted from Bucky's body and vaguely heard her name being called as if through a tunnel. A stinging sensation, like needles being driven into her face, suddenly struck her, and she cried out, thrashing, and knew no more.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter written by Madison Thames.

Karis left the garden and reentered the palace, moving swiftly through the long, dark corridor. She was anxious to return to her room and avoid encountering Loki—or anyone else for that matter—at any cost. However, that was not to be the case.

“Lady Karis!"

Nearly jumping out of her skin for the third time in the last hour, she spun sharply on her heel, eyes wide and her heart pounding. She was surprised to see Fulla, the maidservant who had attended her since her arrival in Asgard, standing before her. 

“My apologies for startling you, my lady,” she said, hands clasped earnestly in front her. “King Loki sent me to search for you when you did not return. He seemed quite concerned for your safety.”

He…he was worried about her? Karis swiftly extinguished the butterflies that leapt inside her stomach at the thought.

“Well, you may inform his majesty that I can manage just fine on my own,” she replied crossly. 

“Forgive me, my lady…” Fulla began hesitantly, as if questioning whether she should continue, “but…I saw you in the garden.”

Karis’ stomach dropped to her toes, and she swallowed. 

“I saw my former mistress speaking with you,” the servant girl went on, mustering her courage. “Queen Frigga—I attended her ever since I can remember. The day we lost her…I still can’t bear to speak of it.” 

Fulla lowered her head and inhaled a shuddery breath, and Karis’ brow furrowed in shock and confusion. 

“You knew her?”

“Yes,” answered Fulla, meeting her gaze once more. “I…I was her most trusted confidant. She rarely kept anything from me. We were very close.”

“I’m so sorry for your loss.” Karis didn’t know what else to say.

Brushing away a single tear, Fulla shook her head. “Seeing her again…it helped in a strange way. To know that she lives on in Valhalla and is receiving the honor she deserves.” 

Karis shifted uncertainly, a question burning on the tip of her tongue. “Fulla…the things she said about Loki…are they true?” 

Torchlight danced in the handmaiden’s eyes. “She always loved him, always wanted what was best for him. He broke her heart over and over again, but she refused to give up on him. It’s…hard sometimes…knowing what he’s done and continuing to serve him, but it’s what she would’ve wanted. I can’t abandon him or—” she paused suddenly, catching herself. “I cannot abandon what is left of my queen’s family when I am needed most.” 

Swallowing, Karis’ hands clenched at her sides. “Is there still good in him?”

Fulla smiled sadly. “You would know that better than anyone.” 

Blushing, Karis’ gaze dropped to the floor. Turning her back on Fulla, she stood in anxious silence for several moments before uttering a response. “Tell Loki that I’m fine and…not to worry.”

She retreated into the darkness, disappearing around the corner and leaving the handmaiden far behind. Her thoughts and her heart were racing, spinning out of control. Again and again, the Asgardians had remarked upon her connection with Loki, hinting that the two of them had been very close prior to her loss of memory. How close, exactly, Karis was uncertain, and she was terrified to follow her thoughts through to conclusion. 

Relief came only when the door clanged shut behind her and she was alone at last in the safety of her room. Collapsing at the foot of the bed, she hugged her knees to her chest and stared blankly into the dark corners. She wanted nothing more than to return to New York, to Matt, to the Avengers, to her ignorance. But she couldn’t. Not now. It was too late to turn back. 

There was a curse she had to get rid of and enemies that needed to be destroyed, or they would never stop hunting her. She couldn’t place her friends—place Matt—in existential danger for the sake of her own selfish pleasures. They had to try again, she decided. Loki was the only one who could remove the enchantment. As terrifying as the idea was, Karis knew that she had no choice. If she ever wanted to be free of the pain, to be able to see Matt again—this was what she had to do. 

**********

Early the next morning after breakfast, Karis made her way to the training grounds, where she and Loki had been meeting every day for the past couple of weeks. Inhaling a breath of fresh air, she took a seat on the wide steps and looked up at the sky. It was a gray morning, crisp and cool. She guessed that a storm was on its way. 

“You came.”

Karis turned to see him standing there, relief passing visibly over his features before he could mask it.

“I did,” she replied, rising and facing him. 

He observed her carefully, and she knew that he was trying to read her. Apparently deciding that it was safe for him to continue, Loki folded his arms over his chest and assumed a business-like tone. 

“The situation yesterday got out of hand. You need not worry—it won’t happen again.” 

“It was my fault,” she said, downcast. “If I hadn’t messed everything up—”

“I should’ve briefed you more extensively before we entered into such a perilous situation,” he interrupted. “It was foolish of me. I expected too much from you.”

It was raining now, droplets sliding down her bare shoulders, but Karis hadn’t moved. He, on the other hand, was sheltered beneath the covered walkway. Blinking, Loki’s eyes flickered to the sky and back to her. 

“Aren’t you going to come out of the rain?”

“Maybe I like it,” she shrugged with a grin. 

He smirked and leaned against the nearest column. “You are a strange one…”

Placing her hands on her hips, Karis tilted her head. “Aren’t we going to train?”

“No, not today,” he answered matter-of-factly. “You need to rest.”

“Maybe it’s you who needs to rest…” she muttered grumpily.

“Keep up that kind of talk and I’ll retract my invitation,” threatened Loki with a mischievous smile. 

“To what?”

“To dinner.”

Her mouth fell open in utter bewilderment, and there was a satisfied twinkle in his eye as he turned and left her standing in the rain.

Was he serious?


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter written by Hannah Lester.

"He'll come... He'll come, Steve. We have to go--to-to go-"

She heard these words filtering through her hazy dreams, though they made no sense. Often, they would change, but still they remained a mystery to her.

"I did this to her! It's my fault--it's mine. She's in pain because of me..."

Often, she felt like she had woken, but only for very short periods of time. Enough to see a face, or feel a warm liquid running down her throat. She had no concept of time, so when her eyes finally popped open to a soft light in her face, she blinked furiously, groaning in pain. Immediately, she noticed that she could only see out of one eye, and the realization terrified her.

Ava managed to look around to find herself under a pile of blankets in Bucky's room, no one in sight. Her lips were chapped and parched, but a glass of water sat on the bedside. Gingerly, she reached for it, crying out in pain as she struggled to grasp it. Her grip was weak, and the glass shattered to the floor, shards spilling across the room.

The door swung open, and Steve took the situation in in one glance. He came to her side and gently helped her into a sitting position. She watched him silently with parted lips as he pushed her hair back from her face and helped her into the most comfortable position.

"Clint! Bring me some water!" he called out.

Her lips were trembling as she lifted a hand, pointing at her eye. He didn't say a word but swallowed heavily, lowering her hand back down. Clint entered cautiously and knelt by her bedside, lifting the cup to her lips. Ava allowed him to help her and didn't complain as it dripped down her chin. Finally, having drank to her heart's content, she swallowed and opened her mouth to speak.

"Where's Bucky...?" she whispered, lip trembling. 

"He's sleeping," Steve whispered. "He's okay."

The effort of sitting and drinking had drained her energy, and she collapsed back against her pillow, closing her eye. "It hurts..." she whispered, holding a hand to her ribs. 

"What does?" Steve whispered tenderly, placing his hand on her knee.

"Everything..."

Clint adjusted her pillow, and Steve helped her to lie back down.

"You should go back to sleep," he whispered, tucking her blanket up around her. 

"How bad is it?" Her voice was a scratchy whisper that the men had trouble understanding, but they deduced her meaning well enough. 

"You'll be okay," Clint whispered.

"You've lost sight in your left eye... The skin is going to take a long time to heal. There might be some other consequences. We're also worried you broke a rib."

She closed her eyes and pulled rhe blankets up to her chest, holding them tight. "I want Bucky..." she murmured.

"Clint," Steve urged.

She felt him leave her side and heard him open the door. Steve didn't say anything, and she kept her eyes closed, trying to ignore all the pain that seemed to drown out anything else.

"You sure she's awake?"

She heard his voice at the edge of the room. Her eye opened to see him standing at the foot of her bed. He wore sweatpants and a t-shirt, a desperate look of fear on his face. When he saw her looking his way, Bucky rushed to her side and picked up her hand. He opened his mouth to speak, but she held out a hand.

"Shh..." she whispered, pulling him up beside her.

He didn't say a word but slowly sat beside her, placing his fingertips gently against the right side of her jaw. 

"Hurts..." she choked out.

He quickly removed them, and she felt tears leaking down her cheeks.

"You okay?" she whispered.

He gazed at her solemnly, his eyes swirling with numerous emotions. "I won't ever let this happen again," he finally murmured, leaning down and pressing his lips to hers.

She moaned in pain, and he pulled back, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

"I-I can hardly see you..." she murmured.

He didn't say anything, and Steve laid a hand on his shoulder.

"Let's let her sleep..." he whispered softly. "Wanda's gonna come in and try some more of her chaos magic anyway."

Bucky slowly rose, but her hand shot out.

"No-" she croaked out, "don't."

He quickly sank back down beside her and, this time, laid next to her, closing his eyes as well, letting her be comforted by his presence. Ava didn't remember Wanda coming in; she was already half asleep, her hand in Bucky's.

**********

When she awoke again, Ava felt much more rested, as though some of her strength had returned to her.

"It's time, Bucky. We need to move now."

"But she's not ready--look at her! She still trembles when she sleeps."

"Don't worry, Bucky, she'll be all right. But the longer we stay here, the longer Tony has to find you. And her. And me. And everyone else."

"But I don't wanna hurt her."

Ava flickered her eye open and rolled gingerly onto her side, facing Steve and Bucky. "Where would we go?" she murmured quietly.

Both boys spun, surprised to find her awake.

"Sam's," Steve answered automatically.

She tried to sit on her own, limbs shaking, and Bucky quickly helped her. She wore a t-shirt and shorts and was soon sitting, trying to block the pain she felt. Reaching a hand up for the first time, Ava felt a thick bandage wrapped around her left eye. She wondered if this was the only reason she couldn't see and, if she were to remove it, she would regain sight. Though she hoped, a deep doubt quenched her thoughts.

"When would we leave?" she whispered.

Bucky glanced back at Steve anxiously.

"Today."

With a shaky breath, Ava nodded. "Bucky, help me to the bathroom. I-I want to take a shower."

He looked hesitant, but didn't deny her wish. She swung her legs out over the side and, as she stood, he wrapped an arm about her, supporting her full weight. The world seemed to swim beneath her, and she almost collapsed, knees buckling. Bucky reached out the other arm, now holding her in both.

"Are you okay?" he asked nervously. 

"Fine..."

So they continued on. The walk took much longer than would be reasonably expected, but Ava felt determined. He opened the door. It swung inward, and she released his hands, sinking against the wall, breathing heavily. He knelt before her and gently touched her chin.

"Let me take you back to bed... That wasn't good for you."

"No. I don't want anyone else to see me like this."

"Our whole team came by to see you," he smiled weakly.

"T-they did?"

"Yeah. They care about you."

She held out a hand, cheeks blushing, indicating she wanted to stand, and he obliged. With a shaky breath, she glanced into the mirror and gasped in surprise. Clint was right about the skin bubbling. Now it looked patchy and red, the burns healing from deep within. Part of her hair had been singed away, and Ava reached up to feel the skin, recoiling on herself as her fingertips spread pain over her face. 

"Don't do that..." Bucky whispered, wrapping his hands around her from behind.

"Can...can I take off the bandage?"

"Yes. If you want."

Slowly, she unwrapped it, careful not to touch her face, and let it drop to the counter. The skin was a burning red color, patches of pale white marking the edges. She couldn't open the lid and had no desire to. She knew all sight was gone.

"Well..." she whispered.

Bucky didn't say anything, but she saw the guilt swirling in his eyes through the mirror. She turned and, with a burst of strength, reached up and kissed his jaw.

"Go ahead and take a shower. Call if you need anything. We'll talk about what happened when you get out. Try not to get your face wet."

**********

The warm water danced over her skin, and Ava had to bite back her screams and moans of pain. When she emerged, the thick towel felt good against her body, and she sank to the floor, wet hair falling over her face as she tried not to cry. It took much effort to get redressed and stumble into the hall, but she continued. In her hand was the ace wrap that she hoped Bucky would reapply for her.

When she entered the main room, she was surprised to see Wanda, Scott, and Sam present, as well as Clint and Steve. Bucky stood by the doorway, watching her face change to shock.

"Are you ready to go?" he murmured.

She swallowed heavily, then meekly handed the gauze to Bucky without a word. He smiled, understanding her meaning, and quietly redressed the wound as she stood, hands clasped in front of her.

"Do you need to sit down?" Clint asked as he finished.

Ava hated to admit her strength was sapped, so she shook her head, swaying on spot.

"Come lie down," Bucky urged, "and we'll talk about what happened while they get ready."

Ava glanced nervously at all of them standing before her and shook her head. "No...I'm...I'm fine. Front porch?"

He nodded reluctantly, helping her out there. They sat on the front steps, his arm around her, her head on his shoulder.

"I didn't mean for that to happen..." he murmured.

"It's okay," she whispered. 

"No it's not," he repeated firmly. "I...Tony asked me...he asked me to come there. He said-he said we were gonna discuss some things. Well, I realized too late he was arresting me. I called you...before I knew that. I just wanted you...to-to help me come home."

He lowered his face to the concrete, and she could feel the pain and sorrow radiating from him.

"I didn't mean for you to get hurt," he whispered.

"Bucky...I'm okay."

"No you're not." He slammed his hand against the step, turning on her. "You're not okay. And it's my fault."

"But Bucky-"

"No, Ava. I can't ever let that happen again."

She couldn't resist leaning in, sliding her hands up his chest and pressing her lips to his. Ava wasn't surprised to find the pain melting away as he took her into his arms, returning her passionate kiss. His lips trailed her jaw, then her neck, and she wrapped his fingers in his t-shirt, pulling him as close as she could.

The door snapped open, and Bucky jumped back, eyes flaring to see Wanda on the porch.

"We're ready--oh..."

Her cheeks tinged with red embarrassment, and she turned on her heel, reentering the apartment.

Bucky sighed. "Why does that always happen?"

"Cause we never have alone time," she whispered, obviously upset.

He placed his hand on the back of her neck and pulled her in for one final kiss. Her face now burned, and she felt very drained, having trouble keeping her eye open. Bucky realized immediately and quickly scooped her into his arms before she could protest. He waited there on the porch until Steve piled out, carrying a backpack and his shield. Bucky followed after him, and Ava tried to fall asleep, hoping she would wake to even less pain.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter written by Madison Thames.

“Blue, green, or black?”

Karis blinked as she stared down at the three gowns spread across the bed. Loki had been quite serious, as it turned out, so serious that he had even sent Fulla to help her get ready. Her eyes roved over the smooth, satin fabrics and glittering jewels before finally coming to rest upon the emerald green dress—the same one that she had shoved into a drawer out of spite when it was first given to her. 

“Green.”

“All right,” said Fulla, gathering it in her arms and helping Karis put it on. 

The silken material slid easily over her skin, the straps resting loosely at the base of her shoulders. Gold embroidery ran down the center of her torso and encircled her waist, the skirt falling in full, rippling folds. The neckline was quite low, and Karis ran her fingers uncomfortably over her collar bone as she stole a glance in the mirror. 

“Would you like to wear a necklace, my lady?” asked Fulla, noting her discomfort. 

“Please,” she answered gratefully. 

Everything was gold—her shoes, necklace, earrings, even a headband that rested atop her tightly curled hair, which was pulled back from her face in a braided updo. She tried not to think about how much all of it was worth. 

“Nervous, my lady?” Fulla inquired as she put the finishing touches on her makeup. 

“No. Why?” Karis lied, trying to breathe. 

It wasn’t the dress—that was fine. She had even managed to avoid wearing a corset. Nevertheless, her chest felt constricted, and her stomach was doing somersaults. 

“You’ve hardly spoken,” Fulla observed. 

“Just thinking, is all,” Karis deflected.

The handmaiden did not press the issue further, and Karis was glad. It was just dinner, she kept telling herself. If she was going to be stuck here anyway, shouldn’t she be happy? But the other part of her interjected accusingly: was Matt happy? Surely he was worried about her, wondering where she was and if she was even still alive. 

“It is time, my lady.”

Releasing a shaky breath, Karis stood and took a last look at herself in the mirror. 

It was just dinner. 

**********

It took two guards to open the massive doors to the dining hall, and Karis’ heart leapt into her throat as she entered, Fulla by her side. The longer tables that normally stretched the length of the room had been removed and replaced with a single, smaller table and only two chairs. A minstrel sat in the corner, plucking the strings of a lute with graceful expertise, and torchlight flickered over the golden walls. Loki sat at the head of the table, and he stood when she entered, his green cape swaying gently. Karis’ heart skipped a beat, and her vision flickered strangely at its edges. 

_“I’m Loki.”_

His voice echoed inside her head, distant—from another time. 

“Are you all right, my lady?”

Snapping out of her trance, she looked at the handmaiden, who wore a concerned expression.

“I’m fine,” she replied dismissively. “Thank you, Fulla.”

She bowed and retreated, leaving Karis alone and petrified as the doors clanged shut behind her. Her eyes met Loki’s, and he approached her with a smile. 

“My lady,” he said in a low voice, bowing and offering his hand. 

Blushing, she placed her hand in his, and he raised it to his icy lips. She turned scarlet, but he pretended not to notice, escorting her to the table. Graciously, Loki pulled out a chair, and Karis took her seat with a nod of gratitude. While she stared nervously down at her clasped hands, he sank into the chair across from her. There was a pause.

“Well?”

She looked up. “What?”

“You haven’t said a word and you’ve hardly looked at me since you came in,” he laughed. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she replied nonchalantly, stabbing a piece of lettuce with her fork. 

He wasn’t fooled. “Are you in pain?”

“No.”

“You didn’t want to come—is that it?” 

Her eyes swiveled in his direction as she swallowed a mouthful of greenery. “I didn’t say that.” 

Loki raised an eyebrow but said nothing in response as he began to pile food onto his own plate. 

“I thought you were joking,” said Karis, eager to lighten the mood. 

“About what?”

She gestured at their surroundings. “This.”

“Why?”

He was baiting her. There was a gleam in his eye, and she rallied her defenses. 

“Well, I have to say that this is the kindest gesture you’ve made towards me since my arrival.”

“What, providing you with a place to stay, training you, and trying to remove a powerful curse from your mind counts for nothing?” 

“I already had a place to stay,” Karis responded flatly, cutting her meat, “but I am thankful for the help you’ve given me.” 

“You didn’t need ‘help’, Karis. You only needed someone to remind you of who you are, where you belong.” 

“I still don’t know much about who I am, or was,” she replied sullenly. “You’ve told me so little.” 

Glancing at him, she saw just how solemn his features had become.

“All will be revealed soon,” said Loki. “Once the curse is lifted, your memories will start to return at a more rapid pace.” 

They ate in silence, and Karis twirled her spoon absentmindedly in a bowl of soup. Finally, she laid it down and looked at him, casting aside the anxieties that plagued her. 

“Are we friends, Loki?”

The forkful of potatoes never made it to his lips, and he lowered it slowly, meeting her gaze. 

“Because sometimes I think we are,” she went on, becoming more flustered with each passing moment, “but then I can’t help but wonder if you’re just using me, if I’m just a part of one of your schemes. Is this all a game to you?”

“No,” he answered simply. 

She heaved a frustrated sigh. “That’s not good enough.”

“Why do you think I brought you here tonight?” he inquired calmly.

“I was hoping you would tell me.” 

Wiping his mouth with his napkin before placing it on the table, Loki pushed back his chair and stood. Karis eyed him uncertainly as he approached her, and the last thing that she expected turned out to be exactly what he did. 

“Shall we dance?”

She stared, speechless, at the hand he offered down to her. “Loki…what are you doing?”

“Must there be a reason for everything, Karis? Have a little fun!”

She didn’t know why, or what compelled her to do such a thing, but she took his hand and allowed him to pull her to her feet. As he led her away from the table and to the vast, open floor space between it and the doors, her heart pounded fiercely inside her chest. 

“I haven’t got a clue how Asgardians dance,” she found herself muttering anxiously.

“I’ll show you how.”

He smiled at her, his eyes sparkling in the torchlight, and the butterflies returned to her stomach, flutters that she felt compelled to stifle. Loki nodded at the minstrel, who was seated nearby, and he immediately understood the gesture. Resting his lute against the wall, he instead picked up a fiddle and propped it between his neck and shoulder. 

A little gasp escaped Karis’ lips as Loki pulled her to him, one arm encircling her waist and the other grasping her hand. The fiddle began to play, ringing clearly through the empty hall, and a slight smile tugged at the corners of Loki’s mouth as he gazed intently into her eyes. Then they were off, Karis caught unprepared as he launched into a series of rhythmic steps. She hurried to keep up with him, frequently glancing down at her toes. 

“You’re doing fine,” he encouraged. “Keep your eyes up.” 

She did as he said, focusing instead on his face. However, she found it difficult to return his intense, steady gaze. They were gliding now, flying faster and faster across the golden tiles, spinning until Karis was sure she would be dizzy. Unconsciously, her fears were melting away, and she was filled with sheer joy as the music carried her far away from the phantoms, the nightmares, the pain. 

Her bliss was interrupted when a sudden tingle ran up her spine, as if Loki’s touch had sent an electric shock through her body. A blinding flash obscured her vision. From the resulting blurs emerged the same room, though draped in tapestries, elaborate decorations, and filled with people. They danced all around her, gowns swirling, smiling faces shimmering in the torchlight. 

Though everything else had changed, Loki was still there, her hand in his. His features were softer, however—more innocent. He was unscarred by the trials and the suffering that now marked him. 

In an instant, she was back in the present. Caught off guard, Karis lost her balance when Loki pulled her to him, and she fell against his chest. His brow furrowed in concern as she swiftly righted herself. 

“Are you all right?” he asked gently. 

“Fine.”

She twirled away from him, her fingers gliding over his, before spinning back into his arms as the music came to a climatic end. They were inches apart. 

“You never answered my question,” Karis said breathlessly. 

“I would be disappointed if you were just a friend,” he replied, his voice almost a whisper. 

She gazed silently into his piercing eyes. The tension was palpable. Her heart pounded in her ears, and several seconds passed before Karis could bring herself to withdraw from his embrace. Nervously, she lowered her head and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Loki was not to be deterred so easily, however. 

“Come with me,” he implored, offering his arm. “There’s something I want to show you.”

“What is it?” she inquired hesitantly. 

“You’ll see.” 

She could hardly resist his charming smile, and Karis allowed herself a small laugh as she took hold of his arm. 

“All right—show me."


	16. Chapter 16

Ava awoke wrapped in a blanket, a cool sensation spreading upon her face. She moaned, rolling over, and a hand brushed her shoulder. Ava turned, blinking with effort, to see someone sitting on the edge of the couch. She bolted upright, chest heaving, and shrunk back.

"Whoa..." a man's voice murmured, and she had to blink several times before she could distinguish Scott's face.

"Wha-?"

He picked back up the ice pack she had pushed off and gently pressed it against her face. 

"Scott--what?"

"Hey, dude, let me do this, m'kay?"

"But..." She lifted her hand and wrapped her fingers around his wrist.

"Feeling better?"

"I...guess..." She felt extremely disoriented, sight blurry and dark.

"Can you see?"

"Everything's a little muted," she admitted embarrassedly. 

He nodded and shifted the ice pack on her left eye. 

"What are you doing here?"

"Checking up on you," he laughed with feigned surprise. "We're friends, right?"

She laughed and shook her head. "I barely know you."

"You're letting me hold ice on your face; you know me well enough."

"I don't like people though..."

"If you're unsure, then let's talk about ourselves. I have a daughter. She's beautiful, and her name's Cassie."

Ava cleared her throat and stared up at him hesitantly. "I had a boy. He was a little blond."

"I'm sure he loved you," Scott murmured a little awkwardly.

She smiled at his memory and shifted so she could see Scott more clearly. Neither said a word for a moment while Scott took the ice pack off and replaced her bandage.

"You know, you're a really heavy sleeper. But when you do wake up, you sure make a fuss."

"Sorry..." she shrugged sarcastically, "shouldn't have woken me up then."

"I'd been sitting here ten minutes with the ice before you ever woke up."

She blushed and tried to sit, bringing her knees to her chest. "Where's everyone else?"

"It was a long day, Ava," he smiled wearily. "They're sleeping."

"What time is it?"

"'Bout 1:00 am." 

"Why are you awake?"

"Eh, I don't sleep well sometimes. It's-its weird I guess."

"You didn't have to...to help me out."

He sat beside her and stretched out his legs. "I know."

She was silent, staring at her hands, and he watched her curiously.

"You know, it was my plan to go look for Barnes, and you left without me!" he laughed. 

She looked at him, shocked, a burst of laughter coming over her. "I didn't do it on purpose!" she laughed.

He reached over and poked her side. "I think you did! You're just trying to leave me out!"

"Oh shut up." She shoved his shoulder, leaning back against the pillows, giggling.

He smirked at his ability to make her laugh. "I don't see you going to sleep any time soon," he remarked.

"Nah... I'm a little worried about all that's going on. Tony's going to come after us. He's-"

"Hey!" Scott interjected angrily. "I just got you in a good mood! Don't go ruining it!"

She smirked and rolled her eyes.

"Wanna play cards?" he asked sheepishly.

"Only if you make more hot chocolate," she teased.

He rose with a sigh, and she pushed him gently.

"And you can't cheat just 'cause I'm half blind now!"

"But that was my edge!" he called from the kitchen. 

"Oh shut up!" she repeated with a loud laugh.

They were halfway through their first game when Sam shuffled into the room, wrapped in a blanket.

"You two do know that you're really loud, right?" he murmured, half asleep.

Ava was sitting on the couch, feet tucked under her, wrapped in a blanket with her hand full of cards. Scott sat on the floor and fell silent as Sam walked in.

"Hey, Sam," Ava smiled.

"Well hey there, Ava. You were actually fast asleep when everyone got here, so I haven't actually gotten to see you yet."

She blushed, embarrassed by her helplessness. He sat beside her and stared at her hand of cards.

"Can you see them?" he murmured.

"Yeah...sometimes the numbers do run together though. But Scott says I haven't messed any up yet." She didn't see the obvious wink Scott sent Sam.

"Well, do you two think you could maybe keep it down so the rest of us can sleep?"

"Sorry..." she murmured.

Scott gave a brief nod.

"Not still scared of me are ya, newbie?" Sam gave Scott's shoulder a little push.

"Scared?" Scott scoffed. "When have I ever been scared of you?"

Ava watched amusedly as the two debated their strengths back and forth.

"Oh come on, I was going easy on you," Sam teased.

"Oh yeah right. I'd take you no problem."

"Ah, just remember whose house you're in," Sam murmured, standing and shuffling back into the bedroom.

"He doesn't know what he's talking about," Scott shrugged. "He wasn't taking it easy on me. I was going easy on him."

"Mhm...sure," she teased with a wink. 

"Hey!" He raised his hands in defeat. "You just stay out of it then!"

"Are you sure we shouldn't talk about what-?"

"Rumi!" he suddenly called, driving her attention away from her current thought and onto the card she'd just laid.

"You gotta be kidding..." she groaned. 

"That's what I thought."

She lifted her mug and eyed him angrily. 

"This is gonna be my game," he laughed. 

He soon did beat her, and she leaned back against the pillows, exhausted. 

"You're pain's lessened," he remarked as he cleaned up the cards.

"Yeah, some. I don't like not being able to see though."

"Hey, you'll get used to it."

"I guess..."

She sat there in silence until he was finished and came to sit beside her.

"You know your boyfriend took a bullet."

She stared down at her blanket in guilt, having not yet gotten to spend much time asking Bucky how he was. "I know..."

"I had to watch Steve and Sam take it out. It wasn't pretty."

"I was asleep," she shrugged sheepishly. 

"I know," he remarked. "I wasn't saying you should have done anything different."

"I don't know how to comfort him," she sighed, leaning against his shoulder.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean...he's been through so much. And he keeps secrets. He has this book he won't even let me read. And then when we both got hurt...well, it wasn't fair 'cause I was unconscious...so I didn't get to be there for his pain."

"I don't think he would have wanted you to be."

"What do you mean?"

"He's tough. Not the kinda guy who'd want you to see him in pain."

"Scott," she began hesitantly, "when Bucky told me that everyone came by to see me while I was unconscious....that was one of my most embarrassing moments. I just--ugh--it infuriated me. The thought was nice, yeah, but...so embarrassing. I looked so weak."

"You still do," he teased.

She lifted her head and glared silently at him.

"Kidding, kidding! I know...but you have people that care about you now. You've got to let them in."

"No I don't..." she insisted.

"Maybe you and Bucky are perfect for each other," he laughed.

She smiled and rolled her eyes. 

"Hey, you should get some sleep."

"Why?"

"Well tomorrow, Rogers and Barnes are going to meet Stark. He has conditions about your and Bucky's arrest, and presumably, the rest of us for resisting him. While you were out, Steve and Barnes prevented another arrest as well, leading to another fight. Since things are at a standstill, Stark's asked to meet--presumably peacefully. They didn't want to tell you, but hey...you can't tell them I told you."

She smiled gratefully and nodded. "Thanks, Scott."

"Yeah whatever. Just go to sleep."

She nodded and agreed, rolling over on her side and gently cradling her bandaged rib, trying to find a position more comfortable. Her skin burned, but she was almost becoming used to it, so much so that it took less than a minute before she had dropped into a blissful sleep.


	17. Chapter 17

“Loki, I’ve been in here before.”

“I know,” he replied, moving through the shadows of the library as she watched with crossed arms. 

Rain pattered against the windows, and not a single candle was lit. Karis soon lost sight of him as he disappeared into the darkness that engulfed the far side of the room, and she waited, wondering why he had chosen to bring her here.

“Loki?” she called impatiently. 

At last, he emerged, carrying a leather-bound book in his hands. 

“What’s this?” she inquired, her brow furrowing in confusion. 

“Your favorite book.”

Karis looked up at him, her eyes wide. 

“I realize that you aren’t capable of reading it now, but one day, you will be able to again.” 

Stunned, she observed the worn pages and the smooth brown cover. Runes were carved into its surface, symbols she could no longer comprehend. Loki held it out to her, and Karis traced the soft leather with her fingers. She couldn’t bring herself to take it, however, and she gently nudged it back in his direction. 

“You could read it to me,” she suggested with a playful smile. Her humor masked the emotions swirling wildly inside her. 

“Enjoy the sound of my voice, do you?” 

“Maybe a little,” she teased. 

He laughed, genuinely surprised by her admission. “Was that a compliment?” 

“You don’t deserve them often,” Karis smirked. 

“Is that so?” he inquired, raising an eyebrow as he took a step closer. 

Nervously, she inched backwards, watching him place the book on a desk. Returning his attention to her, Loki resumed his advance. 

“What if I told you that you look utterly ravishing this evening?” 

His voice was low and enticing, and Karis found herself backed against the nearest table. He was so close.

“I would say that you were mad,” she murmured.

Her heart was pounding. She could feel his breath on her skin, his lips inches from hers. The last of her will had eroded away, her eyes closing as he leaned in. Unconsciously, her hand slid back across the table’s wooden surface. 

Crash!

With a gasp, Karis looked down at the shards of glass littering the floor. The moment was shattered. She looked back at Loki, who seemed unconcerned by her clumsiness. What was she doing? she asked herself. She couldn’t do this—couldn’t behave like this. It was wrong. 

“I can’t do this. I’m sorry.”

Breathless and flustered, Karis fled, unwilling to witness his reaction. She ran until she was one floor below with her back pressed against a towering column. Suppressing a sob, she slid to the ground, hugging her knees to her chest and burying her face in them. There was such a connection—something that strongly, almost irresistibly, drew her to Loki. Something beyond her consciousness. 

It was so difficult to restrain herself, but in those last moments, Karis had seen Matt’s face—the pain in his eyes if he found out what she might’ve done. What was she supposed to do? The man of her present was back on Earth, waiting for her, while the man of her past was rekindling feelings that she had long since forgotten. 

Karis didn’t know how long she sat there, tears streaming silently down her cheeks as she wrestled with herself and her turbulent feelings. At last, the rain pattering against the palace walls fell silent, and she realized that it must be getting late. Dusting herself off, she stood and began to sullenly make her way back to her room. On her way there, Karis passed an archway that opened onto a large balcony, which overlooked the city far below. There, standing at the railing, with his back to her and his green cape billowing about his shoulders, was Loki. 

She had a decision to make. She could leave and pretend that she hadn’t noticed him. That would certainly be easier. But the way he stood with his proud head lowered, his shoulders hunched, broke her heart. She couldn’t bear seeing him this way. 

Mustering her courage, Karis emerged onto the balcony, noticing how slick the golden tiles had become after the rain. She moved carefully, quietly, afraid to disturb him but wishing he would notice her all at once. Stopping only a few feet behind him, she waited, unsure of what to do next—what to say. 

“We were lovers, you and I,” he said softly, his voice just loud enough for her to hear. “That is the answer you came here looking for, isn’t it?” 

He straightened and turned to face her, his features desolate. Despite all of the long hours they had spent together, Karis had never seen his true feelings lain so bare. The loneliness in his eyes—the emptiness. 

“I knew,” she answered finally. “I think I’ve known for a while now. I just...wasn’t ready to accept it.” 

His lips twisted into a scowl as he looked away. “I was a fool to think that things could ever go back to the way they were. You don’t even remember me.” 

“I want to,” she said fervently, taking a step towards him. 

Loki’s knuckles turned white as he gripped the railing. “It was Zelia. She destroyed everything. She stole you from me.” 

Karis halted upon hearing that name, which rang strangely familiar in her ears. “Adva mentioned her before…who is she?” 

He seemed to regret raising the subject but finally resolved to disclose the information she desired. “Majeston Zelia is a powerful sorceress who holds a grudge as old as Asgard itself. You are one of many who have suffered her wrath.” 

“And what is that grudge, exactly?”

“Above all, Zelia desires power. When she did not find it here, she became vengeful. She wanted her own kingdom to rule, but the Allfather would not grant it to her. Now she operates from the realm of Narcisson, where only the Dark Gods dwell.”

Now she was lost. There must have been a bewildered expression on her face, for now Loki smiled sadly. 

“You need not concern yourself with these matters at present.” 

“But…I…” Her fists were clenched at her sides. “Zelia can’t just get away with what she’s done! She has to pay. My memories…my entire life is just…gone because of her!” 

“I know,” he replied calmly, venturing close enough to place a comforting hand on her shoulder. “She will not escape the punishment that awaits her in Asgard.”


	18. Chapter 18

She stood nervously behind the couch, slipping into her boots and tightening the holster for her gun. She knew that they would be leaving soon, according to Scott. She heard their footsteps and casually sat on the couch, propping her feet up and watching as Steve entered, Bucky following him.

"Morning," Steve smiled at her. 

"Good morning."

Bucky stopped and smiled at her, and she couldn't help but blush. Steve caught them staring at one another and, with a knowing smile, excused himself into the kitchen. Bucky quickly came to her side and leaned in smoothly, pressing his lips passionately against hers. She lifted a hand to his neck, not a word spoken between the two. Seconds passed as his kiss intensified. 

Finally, he broke away, and she leaned back into the couch with a gasp. He smiled weakly, and she placed both hands against his chest.

"Buck-" she began, leaning in close to kiss him again.

"Ava, I have to tell you something," he interrupted.

Her brow furrowed and she cocked her head, a flutter in her stomach.

"I have to go. With Steve."

She tried to play dumb, lowering her eyes to the couch. "Why?"

"It's very important. And...well, there's not much to say about it."

"Do-do you plan to be gone long?"

"Yes." 

She was surprised by his answer and brought her eyes up to his in shock. "What do you mean?"

"I mean I'm not sure...when we're coming back. And I wanted you to know..." His voice trailed off, and she watched his eyes expectantly.

"Yes, Bucky?" she prompted.

"I wanted you to know that...that..." He stopped, casting his eyes to the floor. "Nothing."

He quickly got to his feet and retreated into the kitchen, leaving her alone. She stared awkwardly at her fingers for a moment or so before standing and excusing herself onto the back porch. She didn't know how long she stayed back there. Bucky being honest about leaving had changed her plans.

**********

An hour or so passed before Ava heard the door slide open. She was wrapping black tape around her knuckles and didn't turn.

"Ava?"

The voice she heard was taut, scared almost. She knew who it was. Furrowing her brow, she stood and spun to face Clint. Wanda stood beside him, both with pale faces and wide eyes.

"There's something you should know," he spoke softly.

"There was...was an accident. An attack. At the signing of the accords," Wanda spoke up. "A bomb. And Barnes... He's the number one suspect."

Ava didn't say anything but walked coolly up the steps past them and into the house. Her head was reeling as she sank onto the couch and turned on the TV. She flipped channels until something caught her eye. There he was in his red long-sleeved t-shirt with a ball cap pulled over his eyes, face to the ground, men with guns standing around him.

"That's why they left..." a voice spoke behind her.

Scott came to sit beside her and stared at the screen, watching Bucky be hauled to his feet, Steve and Sam following.

"They left so they wouldn't put anyone in danger. They knew men would come looking. I didn't expect them to get caught so quickly."

"Did you know this?" she asked breathlessly.

"No. Not last night."

"He didn't do it," she choked out, slamming her hand on the coffee table. She stood quickly and began pacing, rubbing her fingers through her hair with nervousness. 

"Listen. They'll be okay."

"He's in cuffs! He was on the ground!" She was having a hard time restraining her anger, and hot tears burned her eye. "Let's go!" she screamed to no one in particular. 

Clint came to her side and gently placed his hands on her shoulders. "Ava, there's nothing you could do right now. We think Stark might have framed him after what happened a few days ago."

"Do you really think Stark would do that?" she asked, seething with rage.

"I never would have...but things are changing."

"Let's go," she murmured again, her entire body shaking with anger. 

"You think you can just run in there and rescue him?" Clint sneered, trying to speak sense into her. "That's suicide. Stark would love to get his hands on you too."

"He said he was dropping the issue..." 

"Not after what happened the other day."

"I'm going," she snarled, shaking his hands off.

Clint took a step back and sighed, rubbing his forehead. 

"Not alone," Scott murmured from the couch.

She stared at him, some of her anger dissipating. 

"I'll go with you," he confirmed. 

Ava nodded gratefully and moved toward the door, wearing one of Sam's black t-shirts that was much too long for her and a pair of jeans. 

"This isn't going to go well," Clint shook his head, "and I reserve the right to say 'I told you so' when I have to come bail you out."

She allowed herself a brief smile and waved to him and Wanda.

Scott quickly led her to the side of the building, where a motorcycle was parked. 

"Get on the bike," he murmured, tossing her a helmet.

She slid on behind him and wrapped her arms about him. Ava tried not to remember the last time she'd been on a bike. She tried not to think about Clarke screaming at her...threatening to throw them off the side of the bridge. She shivered against the frigid wind and shut her eyes tight, praying the memories away.

_"If you ever stick up for the boy again-"_

Ava cringed. She could practically feel his cold hand on her neck.

_"Clarke, no! You can't hurt him! Hurt me!"_

_His knuckles were flying, and she lay flat on her back, cradling her bloody nose. He didn't stop, dropping to one knee and driving his fist into her again and again until she lay in a huddled heap, crying into a pool of blood on the side of the road, behind some trees, shielded from view._

_"That's what you get!"_

The bike came to a sudden, screeching stop, and Ava felt herself sliding into Scott's back. He jumped from the bike and helped her down, oblivious to the way she was shaking. Her blonde hair fell as she pulled off the helmet. She wasn't even sure where she was, but before she even had a chance to look around, she saw a couple of men approaching her and Scott--armed. Slowly and almost unnoticeably, he grabbed her wrist, and she smiled gratefully at him.

The men approached and pointed their guns directly at them. They spoke softly amongst themselves, often casually sticking a finger in their ears.

"Ma'am, sir, I don't believe you're welcome here," one spoke. He was a large fellow, with a gruff voice to match his beard.

"Just here to see Tony Stark," Scott remarked cheerfully. 

Ava turned and realized that more men were advancing toward them. "Scott...they recognize me," she whispered, "or they've been warned."

Her heart thumped wildly in her chest.

"Of course you can see him," the other guard spoke. He was quite unlike the first, with a nasally voice and a thin face.

She was quite put off by him and the way he motioned her forward with his gun. Ava realized that the invitation was not friendly as she felt the cool metal of the gun on her back. Slowly, they walked forward, and Ava tried to focus on her steps. Right...left...right...left.

If she took her mind off of that, Ava knew she was likely to become angry again. These could be the same guards who had so cruelly thrown him to the ground...falsely accusing him.   
So she focused on her steps. Scott watched her face contort with quiet, uncontrollable rage and silently scolded himself for bringing her here.

Before ever reaching the door, a voice pierced her ears. "Come to join Steve and Sam I see?"

She glanced up, hatred flaring in her eyes, to see Tony himself. He smiled in good nature and excused the guards. 

"Take her gun," he motioned to one of the original two.

Scott too was checked, and soon, they were following him into the building.

"Just like Sam and Steve, I do believe you've quite lost your privilege for these weapons."

"Stark," her voice trembled, "where is he?"

Tony didn't answer for some time, leading them through halls. She couldn't bring herself to ask again, hatred burning within her.

"Your little boyfriend?" he finally returned. "He's a felon."

Tony's eyes were colder now. "You'll wait in here. With Steve and Sam."

He opened a door, and she stepped inside, relieved to see that he had not been lying, and Sam and Steve were waiting inside. She sank into one of the chairs and buried her face in her hands.

"Ava?" Steve's voice was full of shock. "You brought her here?" he inquired of Scott. 

"I'm sorry! I'm weak for the baby blues. Though they were full of hatred..."

Sam chuckled, and Ava angrily stood, pacing the room again.

"What have they done to him?" she muttered, hardly noticing the fifth person in the room, a pretty blonde. 

"Calm down, Ava," Steve soothed.

"The whole point of us going with Barnes," Sam remarked, "was to keep the rest of the team safe. She wasn't even supposed to know."

Ava slammed her hand on the table. "Not supposed to know!" she screamed. "Are you kidding?!"

"Who is this?" the blonde whispered to Steve.

"Bucky's...uh...girl," Steve muttered sheepishly.

Ava turned and slammed her fist into the wall, pressing her forehead against it. Scott came behind her and gently slid his hand onto her shoulder.

"Calm down," he whispered. "It's going to work out."

"Scott...they have him locked away. A felon... He's not...not-not anymore. He doesn't...he doesn't do that stuff... He...he..." She shook off his hand and, with a deep breath, sat back at the table, casually staring at Steve's shoes. 

"Well, you're here now," Steve murmured, "so...so you'll know when we do."

"We-we just wait?" she whispered tightly.

Sam nodded, and Ava dropped her forehead onto the table with a sigh.


	19. Chapter 19

A sudden commotion disturbed Karis in the middle of the night. She awoke with a start, her eyes flying open as she bolted upright. There were screams echoing from below, and she could swear that she heard a pair of wings flapping outside her window. Anxiously, Karis swung her legs over the side of the bed and rushed towards the sound. Pulling the curtains wide, she looked on in horror as the winged creature that had attacked her in New York glided over the golden city, whose inhabitants were fleeing for their lives. 

The last thing she saw before hurrying into the hallway was the Asgardian laser cannons spraying a barrage of orange bolts into the black sky. What was happening? What should she do? Having no idea where to find Loki, Karis wandered the corridors aimlessly, her eyes wide and frightened. Finally, she glimpsed the shadows of soldiers, which were cast onto the wall by torchlight, as they raced towards…something.

“Wait!” she cried desperately, pursuing them. 

One guard stopped at the sound of her voice and turned. His features were youthful, and unlike most Asgardian men, he had no beard.

“My lady, you must not pass this way! You are in grave danger.”

“What’s happening?”

“The Dark Gods have come for you,” he answered grimly. 

His apprehensiveness gave her little comfort, and Karis shifted nervously, fists clenching at her sides. 

“Take me to Loki,” she ordered. “I must find him.”

“Yes, of course,” he replied, clearly trying to gather his wits about him. 

Frustrated with his lack of efficiency, she followed him back in the direction she had come from just as there was what sounded like an explosion behind them. 

“Quickly now,” the sentry muttered, his hand at her back as he hurried her along. 

Karis was wearing only her nightgown and the robe she had snatched before flying out the door. Her bare feet padded on the cold tiles as they hastened through dimly lit passages, the sounds of combat just beyond the palace walls. Suddenly discerning a strange rustling ahead, the soldier skidded to a halt, his hand jolting out to stop her. 

“Wait,” he hissed, “do you hear that?” 

His eyes swiveled anxiously in all directions, and Karis’ gaze searched the surrounding shadows. They were in a massive chamber that was lined with columns so tall that they disappeared into the darkness overhead. The rustling had gone now—vanished as if it had never even existed. Her heart was thumping wildly, her imagination running wild. 

Suddenly, a chilling rush of air swept over the room, snuffing out every single torch in its path. They were engulfed in total darkness. A hiss there—a scuffle there. She spun to and fro, the guard following suit. He held his sword and shield aloft, his armor rattling due to the trembling of his arm. 

Blinded by a burst of light, Karis shielded her face with her arms as she tumbled backwards. A narrow beam of red energy shot from the shadows and pierced the chest of the sentry. With a cry of alarm, he collapsed, his sword and shield clanking to the floor. Raising herself into a sitting position, she stared, horrified, at the smoking hole in his chest. 

“Well…what have we here?” 

The feminine voice rang eerily through the hall, and Karis’ eyes darted to the fallen weapons. 

“I hardly believed it when I saw that you were rediscovering your powers. What an…unpleasant surprise.”

Crawling forward, she snatched the sword and gripped it with white-knuckled hands. 

“I see that Loki chose not to abandon you, after all. No matter…he cannot save you now. Come…come and face me, Morgana!”

The air crackled, Karis spinning to face the sound. Before her loomed a visage that chilled her to the bone. Scarlet energy spewing steadily from the hands of a creature that hovered just above the ground. A golden helmet she wore, pauldrons too. The twin sides of the helmet curved outwards into two wing-like shapes, or, as Karis saw them, like the hood of a cobra. Her lithe body, robed in red, was like a snake’s tail which tapered off at its end. From the points of her helmet draped a deep purple cape that swayed continuously as she floated.

All of this Karis observed in a glance, however, for her gaze was focused upon the single yellow eye that glowed from beneath the helmet. It took several moments for the words to sink in, and her hands were trembling violently. 

“What did you call me?” she demanded in a quivering voice.

“What?” her foe cackled. “You mean he never told you?”

Her crimson lips spread into a wicked grin. 

“What good is a man who fails to remind his lover of her own name?”

The verbal dagger pierced Karis’ heart with a terrible sting, and violent anger erupted inside her. With a cry of rage, she hurled the sword at the witch’s heart. Batting the blade aside like a toy, the sorceress inched closer. 

“Do you not know that it was I, Majeston Zelia, who cast this curse upon you?”

“I know full well what you did,” Karis seethed, straightening, “and I can assure you that my vengeance will not be pleasant.” 

Zelia laughed scornfully, unimpressed. “As always, you were so blinded by your quest for revenge that you never saw me coming. It appears that you have not learned from your mistakes.” 

Karis had grown tired of talking, and she fired a blast of violet energy at Zelia, who dodged the projectile with ease. Her one eye widened briefly in surprise before narrowing with cold determination. Twin laser beams seared the ground beneath Karis’ feat as she made a daring leap to her left and dropped into a front roll. As she came up, she grabbed the shield and circled around behind Zelia. Blast after blast she hurled, but each time the sorceress would avoid, redirect, or absorb them. 

The harder Karis tried, the worse the pain in her head became. Her power was limited by the curse, and her energy was steadily draining away. She dropped into a crouch and raised the shield high as Zelia fired another laser beam, attempting to deflect it. Her arm wavered under the force of the blow but then held steady out of sheer desperation. Karis soon realized, however, that the beam was melting her shield. She could feel the heat burning through, could see the bright orange flaring at the shields center. 

The moment it crumbled was one she would never forget. Its smoldering pieces fell onto her arm, and the beam came through, searing flesh and bone. Her own shrill scream rang in her ears as she instinctively dropped her arm and clutched it tightly to herself. She rocked back and forth in a futile attempt to deal with the pain, hot tears springing to her eyes. Zelia approached her silently, finding not an ounce of mercy in her being. 

“Quiet now, Morgana,” she sneered. “At least try to face your death with some dignity.” 

Karis was unable to look at her, biting her lip in an attempt to keep from screaming. The pain—it was so intense. She could hardly look at the ruined remains of her right arm. It made her sick. As Zelia prepared to deal the killing blow, however, Karis made a decision: she was not going down without a fight. 

Summoning the last of her remaining strength, Karis looked up into Zelia’s cruel eye and thrust her left arm upwards. Like lightning, blinding energy burst from her fingertips, crackling as it snaked across the witch’s helmet. The surprise attack had caught her off-guard, and Zelia lurched backwards with a shriek. She writhed in pain, hands pressed to the sides of her head, and Karis took her chance to flee. Stumbling to her feet, she made a mad dash past the sorceress and towards the archway at the far end of the chamber.

All she could hear was the sound of her own ragged breathing and her heart pounding in her ears. It was difficult to run with one of her arms now rendered useless, and Zelia was launching a pursuit, her furious scream reverberating off the walls. Her robe billowed behind her as Karis sprinted into the adjacent corridor, listening to the energy crackling behind her as Zelia propelled herself through the air. She rounded the nearest corner, knowing that the sorceress was swiftly closing the gap between them. What could she do? There was nowhere to hide, and Loki was nowhere to be found. 

Suddenly, a disembodied hand came out of nowhere, snatching her by the shoulder and pulling her through a portal. With a strangled cry, Karis tumbled to the ground. Disoriented, her eyes darted wildly about as she struggled to rise. The portal had closed instantaneously, and she found herself staring up at a hooded figure. 

“Adva?”

“It’s all right, Karis. I’m here to help,” she answered kindly, crouching beside her. 

“Where am I? Where’s Loki?”

“You’re in a different area of the palace,” Adva explained calmly. “Loki was…delayed by Perrikus.” 

“Who’s Perrikus?!”

She shook her head. “No time.”

After helping Karis to her feet, Adva summoned another portal. 

“Loki told me to find you and get you out of here, so that’s what I’m going to do.” 

“No!” Karis objected, grimacing and clutching her wounded arm. “I’m not leaving all of you here to fight them alone!”

“You cannot help us in your current condition. Go now, and live to fight another day,” pleaded Adva. 

In her heart of hearts, Karis knew that she was right. She couldn’t bear the thought of leaving Loki and the others behind, but returning to the battle would only put them in greater danger. Tears sprang to her eyes. 

“Good luck to you,” she croaked.

In a gesture that surprised even herself, Karis stepped forward and embraced Adva, who stiffened for a moment before returning the hug. 

“Someone will come to retrieve you when it is safe for you to return,” she assured her. 

Drawing back, Karis nodded gravely before turning to face the portal. She didn’t ask where it would take her—she already knew. Taking a slow, shuddery breath, she entered the rippling gap in space and time, hoping that she would still have friends waiting for her on the other side.


	20. Chapter 20

Ava couldn't even listen to the conversation the others carried on. She leaned against Scott's shoulder with closed eyes, her previous anger leaving her shaken. Her head throbbed, and pain shot through her eye. 

Finally, she felt Scott grip her shoulder, and her eye flickered open.

"Look," he whispered.

Slowly, she got to her feet as she realized the screen in their room gave them a close-up of Buckys face. "Buck..." she whispered breathlessly.

He was bound on all sides, trapped. The thought made her shudder as she tried to erase the imaginary feeling of the restraints from her mind.

Suddenly, the power cut, and Ava whirled on Steve and Sam, panic in her eyes. The blonde murmured something to the boys, and they took off, but not before Steve gave Scott an order.

"You get her out of here, Scott. You understand. She's not in good condition."

"Don't talk about me like I'm not here, Steve!" she called out, but he was already gone.

"You know he's right," Scott remarked, pulling her from the room as well.

The blonde followed them and quickly ushered them out. "Sharon," she introduced herself as they moved quickly through halls filled with confused people. "If you stay close by, I'll get you out."

"I didn't come just to leave!" Ava remarked. 

"Yes you did!" Scott pushed her from behind.

They rounded a corner and came face to face with Nat. She stood stock still, observing them. Sharon casually strode forward and placed her hands on her hips. 

"If you'll excuse us, Agent Romanoff."

Nat watched Ava hesitantly.

"Stark knows we're here..." Ava ventured. "I'm unarmed."

There was a hesitancy in the assassin's eyes. She too looked weak still from their previous battle, but not nearly as much as Ava. Nat's eyes glanced up toward the bandage that still covered Ava's eye. 

"Unarmed?" Nat confirmed.

Scott held his hands up sheepishly. Sharon urged them on, and Nat let them pass, uncertainty filling her eyes. They rushed out into the sunlight, and Scott pulled her along, giving Sharon a salute.

"Thanks!"

Ava wrenched herself free from Scott and glared at him. "We need to help Sam and Steve."

"Rogers can handle himself," Scott remarked, urging her forward. "If I don't get you out of here, I have a feeling you'll bust up every guard in this place."

Ava bit her lip and ran beside him till he reached the bike.

"Nat let you off easy," he murmured. "I shouldn't have ever brought you. Clint was right."

Her face fell visibly as she slid on behind him. She hadn't bothered with the helmet; it remained on the pavement behind them as they sped on. Her blonde hair whipped about her face, but Ava didn't care. She felt better knowing there might be something Steve or Sam could do. 

She was surprised to see Scott taking an unfamiliar path back to Sam's. They rode for a long time, but Ava didnt complain. 

Finally, he brought the bike to a halt and slid off. She didn't follow, and he watched her quietly, aware of how upset she was.

"Ava, there wasn't anything we could have done there. We were unarmed from the minute we entered the building."

She didn't say anything but slid off the other side of the bike in the midst of the vast, empty parking lot. They appeared to be at the remains of an old office building that had long since been abandoned.

"What are we doing here?" she murmured quietly.

"Didn't think we should go back just yet. Wasn't sure where to go..."

She lowered herself and sat upon the concrete, warmed by the sun. Her hair hung over her eyes, and she struggled to keep her fingers from trembling. "There should have been something I could do for him..."

"What do you mean?" he asked, coming to sit beside her.

"I mean...I mean it's not-not fair. I've never really been there for him."

"Of course you have."

"Well just think about the last time Bucky and I fought together. It ended with him having to carry me home."

"That wasn't your fault... It was Stark's."

"But...but he needs-"

"You're not in any condition to do it."

She sighed heavily and felt a tear track its way down her nose. Quickly wiping it away, she hoped Scott wouldn't remark. Ava's eyes flickered to a movement in the short stretch of trees near the building, and she reached for her gun, only to find it missing.

"Scott," she hissed.

"I see it."

Slowly, the two stood and advanced. A moment later, Scott was yelling after Ava as her feet pounded on the pavement towards the stranger.

"Karis!" The name left her lips as she drew nearer.

Her friend was sitting on the ground, shaking, with her eyes closed. A chill ran through her veins as she observed the state her friend was in.

"Karis?"

Scott caught up to her, and he too came to an abrupt halt. Karis had blood smeared on her forehead, her right arm shattered and crushed. She wore a nightgown and a torn robe, singed in places. Her hair was a mess, and there were dark circles beneath her eyes.

"Karis?" Ava ventured closer, and her friend's eyes flickered open wildly.

"Ava!" she croaked out with a weak smile.

"Karis, what's happened?" Ava asked breathlessly, falling to her knee beside her.

"Um...um..."

"Let's just get her some help...to a hospital." Scott knelt too.

Ava swallowed and came to her friend's side, trying to help her to her feet. Karis winced quietly as they got her upright, and Scott pulled out his phone. 

"Karis, how long have you been here?"

"Only a couple of hours..." she remarked weakly. 

Scott brought out his phone to dial, when Ava slapped his shoulder.

"You can't call an ambulance..."

"Why not?"

"Tony would find out. She's wanted. So am I."

"But look at her arm!"

"We can't!" Ava insisted.

"It's fine.." Karis muttered, leaning heavily on Scott and cradling her arm.

"We'll take her back to Sam's."

"I can't get her on the bike. And we need to stay off the streets now that we have her too. I'll call Barton."

Ava helped Karis back into a sitting position, and they waited while Scott made the call.

"Have you-have you met Scott?" Ava murmured sheepishly. 

Karis shook her head silently, and Ava smiled. 

"I'm so glad we know where you are. We've all been worried sick. Where have you been?"

"Um...can we talk about it later?" Karis pleaded.

Ava furrowed her brow and nodded. "Yes, I suppose. Of course."

They waited mostly in silence, other than the sound of Karis' heavy breathing, for Clint to arrive. The wait was much longer than expected, and Ava felt a surge of relief when she saw Clint step out of a car nearby. He quickly jogged to their side, and Karis slid into the back seat. 

"Tell me you didn't call an ambulance," he muttered worriedly.

"No, no I'm fine," Karis murmured, holding her arm tightly.

Clint quickly pulled his shirt off his shoulders and tore it up into strips. "Karis? Will you let me bind it?"

She managed a grimace and nodded. "Of course. Thank you."

Ava waited at the car door while Clint sat beside Karis, holding her steady. 

"Nice to meet you, Karis," Scott smiled at her. 

Karis didn't say anything. She stared at the back of the seat in front of her, silent. Clint gazed up at Ava with a worrisome expression. He nodded for the two of them to get into the car.  
Ava sat beside Karis, and Scott clambered into the front seat. 

The drive was completely silent. Karis sat still, her arm slung up in Clint's shirt. They pulled in behind Sam's building, and Clint uncranked the car. He turned in his seat to look at Karis.

"Where you been?" he asked her curiously. 

She sighed heavily and shrugged a shoulder. "It's a long story."

He lowered his head and opened his door, letting Karis and Ava out. "Well...come on. We'll talk about it later."

Karis didn't say anything as she trailed into the house. Scott placed his hand on Ava's back as they climbed the steps.

"What do you think's going on?"

She shrugged, shutting the door behind him.

"Hey...how about I call Matt?" Ava asked as Karis sank into the couch.

Karis glanced up, eyes landing on Ava, then down to her arm. Meekly, she nodded with a smile.

"If you think he'll want to..." she muttered.

Ava grinned and headed to the coffee table, grabbing her phone.


	21. Chapter 21

Karis slipped in and out of consciousness, awakening during moments of searing pain before falling back into darkness when it became too much to bear. Sometimes she imagined she heard voices, glimpsed faces. One was unfamiliar but calm and soothing. The other was distracted, rambling, pleading. For what seemed like an eternity, she was trapped in this limbo, not awake but not asleep. It came as a tremendous relief when everything went silent and she couldn’t feel the pain anymore. 

**********

She awoke with a start. Eyes flying open, Karis inhaled sharply as her left hand flew to the oxygen mask covering her mouth and nose. There was an IV in her arm, the thin tube tossing about as a result of her sudden movement. 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!”

A pair of firm hands pressed against her shoulders, forcing her to lie back down. The face of a woman she did not know loomed over her. Locks of shoulder-length black hair fell around her eyes, which were kind but tired. Karis thought of reaching up with her other arm but found she could not move it—it was encased in a cast. 

“Easy,” the woman said firmly. “You’ve been through a lot in the past twenty-four hours.”

“Karis.”

Head turning to her left, Karis’ eyes widened, and her heart leaped inside her chest. Refusing to be silenced, she reached up frantically and pulled off the oxygen mask.

“Matt,” she croaked, the faintest of smiles brightening her weary features. 

He leaned in close, taking her hand in both of his. “I’m here.”

The woman stood back, folding her arms over her chest and breathing a heavy sigh as her gaze dropped to the ground. They were in a small bedroom that was unrecognizable to Karis, morning light filtering through the window. 

“Karis, this is Claire,” Matt explained, inclining his head in the other woman’s direction. “She’s the one who came in to patch you up last night.” 

“I thought that I had seen all there was to see when it came to gruesome injuries,” Claire said grimly, moving back to her bedside, “but when I got a good look at your arm…” She paused and shook her head. “I’d classify it as a fourth degree burn, but frankly, I think it requires an entirely new category. I don’t know what could have seared through flesh and bone so completely—I don’t think I want to—but I’ve done all I can to save what’s left of your arm. Obviously, taking you to a hospital would’ve been preferable but…I’ve been told that’s not an option.”

“I…I can’t feel it,” Karis murmured, looking down at her arm.

Claire swallowed. “There was a lot of nerve damage. Paralysis is a possibility.”

Karis’ eyes darted to meet hers. Paralysis? Her heart plummeted to her toes, and there was a sick feeling in her gut. Claire swiftly apologized, but Karis didn’t hear her. A thousand thoughts were racing through her mind—fears, frustrations.

“Don’t be sorry, Claire,” said Matt. “You did all you could.”

Rubbing her arm, she gave a sober nod before turning and leaving the bedroom. The door closed behind her, and Karis stared silently at the ceiling, tears welling up in her eyes. Her fingers were still entwined with Matt’s, but she couldn’t bring herself to look at him. 

“It’s not a sure thing, Karis,” he said finally, clearly trying to think of something encouraging to say. 

“But it’s a possibility,” she replied, her voice almost a whisper. 

She shut her eyes as tears spilled down her cheeks. A lump burned in her throat. There was a long pause between them. 

“I know that there’s nothing I can say to make this any easier for you,” he said gently, “but I want you to know that I’m here for you, and I always will be.” 

Karis swallowed forcefully and opened her eyes, looking his way. “Thank you.” 

She gave his hand a reassuring squeeze, and he smiled slightly. 

“Do you need anything?”

“I’m…really thirsty,” she answered with a sheepish grin.

Matt nodded and stood, releasing her hand and moving toward the door. “I’ll be right back.”

As he disappeared into the hallway, Karis grimaced and painfully pushed herself up on her left elbow. After a brief struggle, she managed to get herself into a sitting position, back pressed against the soft pillows as she stared blankly at the far wall. She was glad, so glad to see him again, but everything was all wrong. She didn’t even know if Loki or any of her other Asgardian friends had survived the encounter with Zelia and her cohorts. What if she was the only one left? 

Her thoughts were interrupted when Matt returned with a glass of water in his hand, which he gave to her as he sank into the chair at her bedside once again. The cool liquid soothed her parched throat, and Karis used it as an excuse not to speak for some time. He was silent, but she knew that he was burning with questions. Leaning forward and propping his elbows on his knees, he clasped his hands. He blinked several times before opening his mouth to speak. 

“Where have you been, Karis?”

Fingers tightly encircling the glass, her knuckles turned white. Slowly, she looked at him. “Would you believe me if I told you?”

Matt laughed bitterly. “At this point, I’m prepared to believe just about anything.”

She swallowed, her breath suddenly catching in her chest—trapped. “I…I didn’t mean to leave. I was…taken.”

His brow furrowed, jaw clenching as she went on. 

“He came for me, Matt, the man I told you about. The one I saw in my visions. He’s real. He saved me from my attacker and—”

“The footage was all over the news,” he interrupted. “I heard it—heard what they were saying. I knew that you didn’t leave willingly.”

“Well, when I woke up,” Karis inhaled a shuddery breath, “I was in Asgard—in another realm. A-another plane of existence.”

He ran a hand briskly through his hair, blinking profusely, and she trailed off.

“Do you think I’m mad?” she inquired hesitantly.

“No. I know that-that it’s real. When the aliens attacked New York, Thor was there, fighting his megalomaniac brother…”

A tightening in her stomach was the extent of Karis’ reaction to his comment. “Well, it turns out that I was taken to Asgard for a very specific reason. I…was given answers, answers I’ve been seeking for a long time. I know who I am now, partially, and…well…I don’t know how to put this gently.” She took a deep breath. “I’m Asgardian, Matt.” 

His eyes widened, his mouth falling open. She watched him anxiously, but his expression was blank—unreadable. 

“Well, say something,” she pleaded. 

“I…uh…” he cleared his throat, “wow.”

“That’s it? ‘Wow?’"

“This is a lot to take in, Karis,” he responded defensively. 

“Don’t I know it…” she muttered, shifting her gaze back to the wall. “If you don’t want to have anything to do with me anymore, I’ll understand.” 

“I never said that. Karis, I knew what I was getting myself into. When you sent a guy flying twenty feet through the air with a single kick. When you went toe to toe with Natasha Romanoff after a couple weeks of training. If sending me through a staircase with some kind of otherwordly magic didn’t get rid of me, do you really think this will?”

Turning, she gazed into his fervent brown eyes, continually amazed by his unwavering loyalty. “I love you.” 

Smiling, she pulled him in for a passionate kiss.


	22. Chapter 22

Ava had grown exceedingly worried when Karis passed out. She hadn't gotten a good look at her arm before Clint had wrapped it, but apparently, he hadn't been able to get the sight out of his head. Promptly after she had lost consciousness, he had excused himself to throw up.

"Worst burn I've ever seen," he remarked as he reentered the room, coming to stand beside her.

Her fingers trembled as she held onto her cell phone. 

"Did uh...Murdock say he was coming?"

"Yes..." she murmured.

Clint wrapped an arm about her shoulder. "I know everything's chaotic right now, but it's going to be okay. I promise."

"You can't promise things like that, Clint. Karis...Karis has been missing, and reappears seemingly half dead. Buck-Bucky's in custody, and Steve and Sam could be next."

There was a knock on the door, and Ava took a deep sigh, staring at the carpet. Scott had been kneeling next to Karis, but he got to his feet now and opened the door.

"I assume this is Murdock?" he asked, pointing to Matt on the steps. 

Matt smiled and brushed past Scott, placing his cane beside the wall.

'Is he blind?' Scott mouthed obviously to her, pointing at Matt. 

She placed a hand over her mouth to stifle her laughter and nodded. Then she stepped forward and placed a hand on Matt's. "She's over here. On the couch. She, uh, passed out a bit ago."

Matt knelt beside the couch and buried his hand in her hair. "Was she in a lot of pain?" he asked, voice taut with emotion.

"Yes," Ava whispered, "I think so."

"I'm gonna take her, okay? I have friend that might be able to help."

"But-"

Clint placed his hand on Ava's shoulder, and she fell silent. Matt scooped Karis into his arms and stared unseeingly down into her face for a moment. He took a deep breath and stepped to the door, Scott helping him out.

"We have to worry about the rest of the team too, Ava," Clint muttered.

"I-I know."

She pulled herself from his grasp and excused herself onto the back porch. It had grown a lot darker and slightly chilly. There was a sharp wind, and she felt it blowing under the large t-t-shirt she wore. Ava glanced up at the shining stars overhead and sighed to herself.

"Karis is going to be fine," she tried to reassure herself, "and Bucky--he'll...he'll come back for you. He'd never leave you alone."

Finally, the cool wind drove her inside, and without a word, she passed Clint on the couch. He was wordlessly watching some cartoon. She opened Sam's door and shut it quietly behind her.

Ava stared around the mostly empty room and bit her lip nervously. Silently, she slipped into one of his jackets and strapped on a gun. Since it was already dark, she had no problem lowering out of the window and onto the street below.

Ava jerked the hood up on her head and casually tried to walk down the sidewalk, careful to keep her eyes down. Her thoughts wandered as she walked and, therefore, it seemingly took no time before she was standing on Steve's back porch. She climbed up the back steps and reached under his window sill, pulling out the spare key. Sliding it into the lock, she let herself inside and quickly locked it behind her.

Lowering the hood from her face, Ava looked for a light switch. Its warm glow illuminated the room, and there was a slight comfort to it. She felt closer to him here.

Quickly walking down the hall to his room, Ava opened the door, flicking on the light. His bed was still unmade; she'd been the last to sleep in it. His walls were mostly bare, and the room didn't contain much. The closet was empty except for a couple of t-shirts and a pair of jeans and sweatpants. The several hair ties he had on his shelf were almost enough to make her laugh. 

In a spontaneous move, she undressed and pulled on one of his t-shirts. It was dark green with no words printed on the front. It felt soft; he'd obviously worn it. 

She sat on the edge of the bed and smiled down at the sheets. With decreasing hesitancy, she slid open his bedside drawer and peered in curiously. His book sat inside, the one he wrote in. The one he wouldn't let her read.

With trembling fingers, she picked it up, observing the worn surface and numbers of page markers within. There was a pang of guilt as she opened it up to a random page and began reading. Ava wasn't sure what compelled her to do so. She stared silently at the pages, shock spreading through her.

_'He used to tremble. Even at the slightest wind. He never wanted anyone to know. I remember that.'_

The words were slanted, hard to read, as though his hand had shaken when writing.

_'He was little, I think. I'm not sure. Maybe he was always big like this, but I don't think so.'_

She flipped to the next page, a new entry.

_'I remember every face of every victim I killed. The men...women and children. No one can ever forgive me. I can't forgive myself. I'll never forget the big eyes of that little blonde girl who'd screamed and cried for me not to hurt her daddy. I killed him. And then...I killed her.'_

Ava shut the book, choking back a sob. She placed it on the bed and stood, leaning against the wall and wrapping her arms tightly around herself. She let tears track their way down her cheeks as she sniffed back her feelings.

Finally, she plucked up her courage and picked the book back up. This time, she flipped to some of the more recent entries. 

_'It's short and blonde. Her eyes light up when she looks at me. I can't remember anyone ever looking at me that way. I don't think I've ever felt this way either. She's beautiful, really. I love the little things that she thinks I don't see. The way she twirls her hair. Or bites her lip. When her eyes tear up...I want to do anything to make her feel better. But I can't. I don't ever want to forget. I don't want to forget her, or the way she makes me feel.'_

Ava was surprised to find a small photo of herself taped to the bottom. She was sitting at the kitchen table talking with Steve, a smile on her lips. The picture was a little blurry, probably taken by his phone, but she was very flattered. In fact, she felt her cheeks heating up as she looked at it. The picture couldn't have been taken that long ago. 

Slowly, she placed the book back in the drawer and broke down in sobs, curling into his bed. Ava clutched the pillow to her chest and released all of her pent up anger, depression, and fear. 

Finally, the sobs drifted away, and Ava rose from the bed, throwing her clothes on the dresser and flicking off the light. The blankets were thick and warm, and she felt a sense of comfort sleeping under them again. 

**********

Ava was awoken the next morning by the sound of her phone buzzing on the side table. Groggily, she reached over and picked it up, staring at the name on the screen.

"Hello?" she asked, dazed.

"Babe? Where are you?"

She sat bolt upright, her face lighting up. "Bucky?!"

She heard him sigh.

"Babe, where are you? They said you weren't at Sam's," he repeated.

"Um...that's not important."

"What do you mean it's not important?"

"Where are you?" she questioned.

"I'm about to tell you-" His voice was cut off, and Steve came on the line.

"You need to get yourself back to Sam's. You and the rest of them are gonna meet up with us. It's time to confront them, and we need all the help we can get. I don't know where you are, Rollins, but you need to shape up."

"Okay, okay, Steve," she smiled into the phone. "Can I talk to Bucky now?"

"You'll see him soon enough."

The line went dead, and Ava's mouth fell open in shock. Angrily, she stood and huffed into the silence. She didn't care about making the bed; it had been messy before. She slid back into her jeans and adjusted Buckys green t-shirt. Strapping her gun back on, she borrowed one of Bucky's hair ties and pulled her hair back from her face. 

**********

It wasn't too long before she was back at Sam's, slipping into the house unnoticed.

"If she doesn't get back here soon-" Wanda remarked.

"She'll be here," Scott insisted.

"I'm here, losers," Ava remarked, throwing Sam's hoodie onto the couch.

Clint smiled ironically at her, and Ava rolled her eyes.

"Well," she said after a moment's silence, "let's go."


	23. Chapter 23

Later that morning, Matt had gone to get her something to eat, and Karis was left alone in the unfamiliar room once again. It took him longer to return than it should have, and she became suspicious. Pulling the IV from her arm, she slowly swung her legs over the side of the bed and grimaced, clutching her aching ribs. The damage Zelia had dealt was not just to her arm. Wincing, Karis stood and carefully moved towards the open door. 

She fell against it, her legs weak and wobbly. Her arm dangled uselessly at her side. Hearing voices down the hall, Karis silenced her breathing and listened intently. 

“She can’t stay here, Matt. I know that I owe you, and I’ve repaid that debt now. You know that I admire what you do, but I can’t keep…I can’t keep making myself a target for anybody who has a score to settle. And Karis—there’s someone very dangerous who has it out for her.” 

“I know. I’ve been staying at Foggy’s until I find a new place. She’ll be safe there.” 

Suddenly, the robotic voice that Karis recognized as Matt’s phone started announcing repeatedly: “Rogers, Steve. Rogers, Steve.” 

He cleared his throat. “I uh, need to take this.”

“Go ahead,” she heard Claire reply dismissively. 

Hearing Matt’s footsteps coming back down the hall, Karis limped back to bed and slid quickly under the covers. 

“Hello?”

There was a long pause. His footsteps stopped. 

“Okay. Yeah, I’ll be there. Just…give me a few minutes.”

Karis watched as he reentered the room, sliding his phone back into his pocket. He took a deep breath and placed his hands on his hips. She could tell that he had bad news. 

“What is it?” she inquired innocently. 

“It’s a long story.”

“Matt?” she prodded, a little more forcefully.

He heaved an exasperated sigh and rubbed the back of his neck. “You know how Stark and Rogers…disagreed over our methods? With how we handled things? Well, now it’s blown up into something that’s bigger than any of us. A lot’s happened since you left. Long story short—Steve needs my help, and…I don’t know when I’ll be back.”

“You’re leaving now?”

“Yeah.”

“But I…” Karis glanced helplessly at her arm.

He came and sank onto the edge of the bed, placing his hand on her cheek. “Stay here. Rest. I’ll be back soon—I promise.”

A silent tear fell down her cheek. “You better be.”

“Foggy will come and take you back to his place, and I’ll meet you there.”

She nodded, and he planted a firm kiss on her lips before standing and heading for the door. Sadly, she watched him go, feeling utterly useless. As Karis glared down at her shattered arm, hatred for Zelia swelled inside her. 

**********

Nearly an hour later, she heard a knock at the front door, which Claire promptly answered. Hearing Foggy’s familiar voice provided her with a brief sense of happiness, and she struggled to climb out of bed when she heard him coming down the hallway.

“Be gentle with her—she’s got a long road of recovery ahead.”

“Please. Claire, look who you’re talking to. I am the master of TLC.”

“Mhm…” she heard Claire grunt disbelievingly as they rounded the corner. 

Karis managed a weak smile, and Foggy grinned, spreading his arms wide.

“Karis!”

“Don’t hug her,” Claire warned sternly. “It took me all night to get her arm back into one piece. I don’t need you sending us back to square one.” 

“Geez, so touchy,” he responded in a wounded voice. 

“It’s good to see you, Foggy,” said Karis as he approached her bedside. 

“Likewise. Ready to get outta here?”

She nodded gratefully as he helped her get out of bed. Claire briefly disappeared from the room before returning with several pairs of clothes. 

“I thought you might need these,” she remarked with a shrug.

“Thank you,” Karis replied as Foggy accepted them with his free arm. The other was around her waist, her uninjured arm draped over his shoulders. 

Soon, they were out the door, down the stairs, and arriving at the car that was parked outside. Before Foggy helped her into the passenger’s seat, Karis looked up at Claire, who was watching from the top of the stairs.

“Thank you again, for everything,” she said sincerely. “I won’t forget it.”

Claire nodded, giving her a warm smile, and Karis lowered herself gingerly into the car, Foggy closing the door. He slid into the driver’s seat, and the engine rumbled to life. Apartment buildings flew past her window, and it wasn’t long before Claire was out of sight.


	24. Chapter 24

The air was warmer, a breeze softly blowing in. Ava stepped out of the car and observed those who stood before them. Steve waited with his arms crossed over his chest, a grim expression on his face. Sam stood next to him, less solemn, and his characteristic smirk present. Her eyes swiveled straight to Bucky, and she had a hard time restraining herself from running directly to him. He looked okay, merely tired, which relieved a lot of her fears.

Clint clambered out of the driver's seat, and Wanda, too, let herself out. Scott followed behind Ava.

"So, I suppose we're all here then?" Sam asked, counting heads.

"I called one more," Steve confirmed. "Everybody go ahead and suit up. He'll be here shortly."

Ava shrugged uselessly and wandered over to Bucky as everyone else strapped on their uniforms. He gave her the slightest of smiles while wrapping an arm around her shoulder, and she smiled up into his face.

"You okay?" he asked seriously, leaning his metal arm against the car.

"I'm fine," she murmured, smile dropping. "What about you?"

She gently laid a hand on his chest, and he grimaced.

"I've been better," he admitted. 

She leaned up and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

"Hey, Ava!"

She turned to see both Steve and Sam walking over to her.

"Scott brought it to our attention recently that you have no kind of protection. That stuff Tony gave you a while back was kinda worthless, and I never see you use it anyway. So here. Some extra stuff we've had around for a while."

She stared, confused, at the two of them as they pulled out different parts of a uniform.

"Come on," Sam urged, "we'll help you into it."

"I can do it myself," she sneered.

Sam laughed loudly before handing it over to her. "There's no helmet or head protection...so don't bang your head. We're not sure what's in that belt. It's all Tony's stuff."

The uniform was a lot like Clint's, but the arms weren't exposed. Most of it could easily fit over her clothes. As she was securing the upper portion, she felt Bucky come up behind her, sliding his hand onto her hip beneath the suit. She didn't say anything, and he leaned closer, whispering in her ear.

"Ava...you're wearing my t-shirt, aren't you?"

Her entire face took on a deep shade of red as she stuttered to find something to say. Before she could think of anything, she felt him laughing and immediately turned. He was smiling at her, and she couldn't help but blush, finishing adjusting the uniform. Ava didn't say anything to him and hopped up onto the trunk of the car so as to tie her boots. Without a word, he sat beside her and leaned against the back windshield. 

"I don't mind," he laughed. "It just surprised me. Where did you even get it? I thought it was back at-" He stopped, and Ava was sure her face turned an even darker shade of red.

"Did you go to Steve's last night?"

She glanced around quickly. Steve was busy talking with Scott. Clint was helping Wanda, and Sam was checking on the status of his suit.

"Yes," she whispered, embarrassed to admit it.

He leaned in and pressed a kiss to her cheek. "You knew I wasn't there though, right?"

"I knew where you were," she whispered exasperatedly. "I just-I just needed to-to feel close to you."

His smile dropped, and he gazed mutely at the ceiling of the parking deck. 

"It doesn't bother you...right?" she whispered.

He tilted his head till he faced her, dark hair falling behind him. "Of course not. I just... We have some things to talk about. We-" Bucky was interrupted by Steve's commanding voice.

"I'm pretty sure by now that you've all met Matt Murdock."

At the sound of the name, Ava turned and gasped in surprise, seeing him standing next to Steve. He wore his own suit, muted red in the sunlight. His head was exposed, and he smiled kindly at them all. His brown eyes moved casually, but she knew he couldn't see any of them.

"We need all the help we can get," Steve continued, "and Matt agreed to fight with us."

Bucky jumped from the car and offered her his hand, his face a mask of indifference. Her heart beat at the thought of what he'd been about to say. 

"Matt?" she called, running up to him, feet pounding on the pavement. "How's Karis?"

"She's a lot better." Matt's voice was heavy with exhaustion. "Foggy's taking care of her."

"All right, guys," Sam clapped his hand on Steve's shoulder, "we're following the Captain."

Steve smiled at the ground and then at all of them standing around him. "I'm grateful for every one of you," he smiled.

Ava felt numb as they quickly made their way down the small set of stairs on the left. Right as they were about to leave the parking deck, Bucky grabbed her by the waist and pulled her into his arms. 

"Buck-"

Without any hesitation, he pressed his lips to hers, and she stiffened in surprise. When he pulled away, she could see the deep fear and longing in his eyes.

"Ava...I need you to know...I would never leave you if-if I couldn't help it. Okay?"

"O-okay..." she nodded, confused.

"Do you understand? I promise, I would never do anything to hurt you on purpose."

He had her pressed against the wall, and his eyes were wild and frantic, trying to get his message across to her. Her lips were open in surprise, eyes filling with emotion.

"Bucky?" she whispered.

"Yes?"

"What's going on? What do you mean?"

"Nothing, Ava. I just wanted you to know how much I care about you, okay? In case anything happens."

She leaned up and gave him a soft kiss. He couldn't help but smile before pulling her out with him as they joined the rest of the team.

Her heart plummeted. Stark and Steve were talking, but as she scanned the faces of the opposing side, she realized how difficult this would be. She'd never really considered any of them friends, but then her eyes landed on the boy in the red and blue suit. He stood behind Stark, and as she came to stand beside Wanda, her mouth fell open.

"Peter?" she whispered to herself. 

Her heart beat wildly, but she felt an odd sense of calm. Bucky's words to her had really eased her spirit.

"Ross gave me thirty-six hours, Rogers, to bring you in. It's been twenty-four. Come on, help me out here," Stark complained.

"You know I can't do that, Stark." Steve shook his head. 

Ava could visibly see the frustration in Tony's face as he sighed.

"What do we do, Cap?" Sam asked from her right, his face the picture of loyalty.

"We fight."

Though she had two guns in her belt, Ava preferred not to use them. She felt that in many ways, this would be better to handle hand to hand. Or with some of the specialized weapons she knew Steve and Sam had in this belt.

As though her head had been in the clouds, she hadn't realized that it had begun. She glanced to her side and saw that Peter was already coming at her. 

"Pete, what are you doing?" she screamed as she ducked under the web he sent.

The boy didn't answer, vaulting over her and landing on his feet. "Sorry...he gave me a new suit."

"And you throw everything you know away...for that thing?" she said, pointing at the suit.

He launched a web, which hit her on the wrist, and pulled her closer. She sent a flying kick into his side and broke the web, planting another kick at his groin. 

"That wasn't nice!" he screamed, slamming her head back against the concrete as he swept her feet out from under her.

"This isn't you!" she screamed at him, pulling something from the belt at random.

What came out was a round, metal disk with seemingly no function. Peter quickly grabbed it from her hand.

"Oh, what's that?"

In his moment of distraction, she pushed him off, planting her knee on his chest and getting to her feet. Suddenly, the disk began to glow, and a beam emerged, missing Spidey by a mere inch. He screamed, dropping it onto the concrete and coming to his feet.

"What was that?"

She quickly picked it up and pointed the glowing light at him. "I don't know. But you need to think about what you're doing!" she insisted.

Suddenly, she felt a swift kick to her back sending her down to the pavement, disk clanging to the concrete.

"Hey!" she randomly heard Stark scream from nearby. "Who freaking stole this from me? This was in my lab. I'm not tolerating thieves here, people."

Ava scrambled to her feet and jumped backwards to avoid another roundhouse from Nat. Knowing that she was skilled in close range, hand to hand, Ava ducked closer and jabbed her fist up into the assassin's jaw. She then slid an elbow into her face and ducked behind a large van, taking a breather. 

She suddenly screamed as she felt the van turn on its side, crushing her beneath its weight, and Tony cursed.

"I believe Steve wouldn't approve of that," Sam called back.

As she wiggled out from under the crushed glass and bent metal, she knew what they were talking about. A man, taller than the parking deck of the airport itself, stood towering above them. It took her a moment to realize that it was Scott. 

Peter, Tony, and Rhodey were already dealing with him, leaving Nat in hand to hand with Clint. Wanda was fighting with Vision, who Ava had only come in contact with once. She felt a little weak, blood trickling from her head. Matt was running in the direction of Vision and Wanda, though she wasn't sure how he knew where to go.

Frantically, she looked in every direction for Bucky but couldn't see him or Steve. Running at top pace, she drew something else from her belt and laughed in surprise to find another of Tony's stolen gadgets. Before it could ever leave her hand, she felt Scott falling backward and glanced up in surprise. Peter had wound his web around Scott numerous times, and he couldn't move without completely falling over. Unfortunately, he was so large that he could crush anything in sight. She took off backwards to avoid his falling form, sweat beading on her brow, lungs burning fiercely.

Suddenly, someone grabbed her by the waist. She conked her head on a slab of broken concrete, and everything went black.


	25. Chapter 25

“All right, the suspense is killing me, Karis.”

Distracted, she glanced up from her coffee mug to meet Foggy’s inquisitive gaze. 

“Are we just gonna pretend like you didn’t take a two-week vacation to space?”

She sighed, tracing the rim of the cup with her finger. “I’m not sure I want to talk about it right now, Foggy…” 

“Why not?” he exclaimed incredulously.

“It’s…complicated. Besides, have you forgotten that I nearly lost my arm?”

Karis raised an eyebrow expectantly, and the excitement drained from his face. 

“Oh…right. Sorry. Gah, I’m such an idiot…”

She gave him an encouraging smile. “No you’re not, Foggy.”

Uncertainly, she made an attempt to lift the mug from the table with her left hand, which felt entirely clumsy and unfamiliar. Carefully, she raised it to her lips, and he watched silently. Taking a sip and setting it back down required far too much effort, and Karis felt a flicker of irritation. 

A knock at the door ended the uncomfortable pause that ensued, and he jumped up to answer it. Her heart leaped inside her chest at the thought that it could be Matt, and she turned eagerly to face the door. It was dark out, and heavy winds caused the window panes to rattle. Foggy peeked through the glass before opening the door to reveal Karen Page. Her blonde hair whipped wildly about her shoulders, and he quickly ushered her inside. 

Her eyes brightened when she saw Karis sitting on the couch, and she greeted her with a warm smile. “Welcome home, Karis!” Sheepishly, she held out a cardboard box. “I brought pizza.”

Fighting to hide her disappointment, Karis forced a smile. “Thanks, Karen.”

Foggy cast a knowing glance her way as he and Karen came over and sat down. He immediately began piling pizza onto a plate as Karis nibbled a slice absentmindedly. She caught Karen looking at her arm, though it was disguised by the cast, and instantly became self-conscious. 

“I’m glad you’re back, Karis,” she said, awkwardly realizing that Karis was watching her. She swallowed before adding, “Foggy said you…went to space?”

“Asgard,” Karis corrected, redirecting her gaze to the far wall. 

“Oh, right!” said Foggy, motioning energetically with a pizza slice. “I knew it was As-something.” 

“Did you…did you meet Thor?” Karen inquired, barely containing her excitement.

“No.”

“Aw, that’s too bad,” Foggy remarked, taking a large bite. “It’s a good thing his brother’s six feet under—that guy that almost destroyed New York. What was his name?”

“Loki,” Karen supplied. 

A lump stuck in Karis’ throat. “What?”

“Yeah,” he affirmed, munching loudly, “according to the Avengers, anyway.” 

Swallowing uncomfortably, she decided not to inform them that the truth was indeed otherwise. Or so she hoped. After what had happened with Zelia and the other Dark Gods, Karis wasn’t so sure. 

“Have you heard from Matt?” asked Karen.

“No,” Foggy responded with a shake of his head.

Karis’ eyes swiveled anxiously between the two of them, and he caught her gaze.

“It’s okay,” he assured her. “She knows now, about Daredevil. Matt told her.”

“Oh, great.”

Her smile felt almost painful by this point, and Karis wondered how long she would have to pretend like everything was all right. She continued to make small talk for as long as she could stand before finally announcing that she was exhausted and that she was going to bed. Karen said her goodbyes, as kind and polite as always, and once she was gone, Karis retreated to the spare bedroom. When the door closed behind her, a quiet sob escaped her throat. Covering her mouth with her hand to mask the sound, she padded quietly over to the bed and lowered herself carefully onto the mattress. 

She didn’t bother to change—she didn’t even know if she would be able to by herself. Avoiding the issue was easier than finding out the answer, so that’s what she did. There was a bag near the closet that she guessed was Matt’s, but other than that, the only evidence of him was the tousled blankets and the tinted glasses on the bedside table. As she lay down on her left side, Karis gazed silently out the window and into the darkness beyond. 

The two people she cared for most in this world had gone into battle and had not returned. Until they did, she knew, there would be no rest for her.


	26. Chapter 26

A low moan escaped her lips as her eye flickered open. Immediately, she realized that her makeshift eye patch had been removed. She tried to sit and found she couldn't. Gazing around was difficult with only one eye, but Ava managed to secure a decent look at things.

She appeared to be strapped to a stretcher in a small room. There was a cot lying nearby, but not much other than that. The walls were made of glass, but she couldn't see out of them very well.

The sound of footsteps on the tile to her right sent Ava's heart beating wildly. She waited fearfully because she couldn't see who approached. A man in blue scrubs leaned down over her, blond hair tousled over his forehead. He was unfamiliar to her, and she scowled in response. 

"Who are you?" she asked defensively.

"I'm here to get you down," he replied without a hint of a smile. "You suffered some head trauma, as well as bruising to the ribs. But you should be fine now, Rollins."

He unstrapped her and helped her into a sitting position. "Meals come twice a day. You aren't to be let out except under strict orders and guard."

"Where am I? What's going on?" she asked uncertainly.

"Stark's got us locked up!" a voice yelled to her.

She couldn't identify the source, but the blond man paid no heed.

"It's okay, Ava, the rest of us are here too," Clint's familiar voice called out.

"Clint?"

"Yeah we're all here."

She swung her legs out over the side of the stretcher and attempted to step off. When she dropped to the floor, it came as an embarrassing shock.

"You've been under the restraints a while. It'll wear off," the man spoke, helping her to lie on the cot. "Change into this and submit your uniform at meal time tonight."

He laid a blue jumpsuit on the cot next to her, and she scowled at him. With quick steps, he left the room through the back, and she took the blue fabric in her hands. Ava knew it would certainly feel good to get out of the uniform, even though she knew the jumpsuit was probably cheap, scratchy material. 

Taking off the uniform was a cinch, and it gave her a breath of relief. She realized that anything of use within the uniform had already been taken. Though she slid out of her jeans, Ava elected to keep Bucky's t-shirt on underneath the jumpsuit.

When she'd changed, as far back from the glass as she could, she advanced forward and tried to look into the other cells. Scott was in one of the cells across from her, Sam to his right, Matt sitting on a cot to his left. Clint was somewhere to her left, out of sight but obviously closest to her. Ava couldn't see Wanda anywhere, nor Steve or Bucky. It was possible that one of them was in the cell to her right. 

"What's going on?" she asked to no one in particular.

"Well," Scott began, "you conked your head...out cold for the last...uh...I dunno, several hours. Long story short...we didn't win. And, well, Stark-"

"He had us locked up," Sam finished. His face was a mask of anger that she had rarely ever seen, and it surprised her. His eyes raged, deep anger lurking within them.

"I can only see three of you..."

"Ava, come right up to the edge of the glass and look to your left," Clint's voice asked of her. 

She did as he requested and could barely see him looking back at her. "Are you okay?" She inquired  
.  
"Yes. And you?"

"Okay... Where's everyone else?"

"They have Wanda locked up elsewhere," Clint murmured, casting his eyes to the ground.

"Why?"

Clint fell silent, and Ava awkwardly rubbed her neck.

"Can't very well talk about Rogers here," Sam murmured, "but Barnes is with him. In case you were worried."

She shot him a grateful, however weak, smile and sank into her thin cot. It had a set of sheets and a blanket folded at the bottom and a pillow at the head. Ava lay back upon it and stared at the ceiling.

Suddenly, she heard a large door slam, and she got to her feet as quickly as she could without falling over. Tony Stark stopped at the edge of the room, and her lips parted, a small spark of hatred beginning to burn within her. Sam already stood, as did Scott, but Ava watched as Matt slowly got to his feet. He had been silent for the last several minutes, but now he came right up to the glass. She saw him slip his hand into his pocket.

Scott hurled some weak insults at Tony as he passed, but the billionaire paid no attention. As he walked before Matt's cell, Daredevil pulled a coin from his pocket.

"Saved this for you, Stark," he muttered.

"What's that? A silver coin? I don't understand."

"That would make thirty-one pieces of silver, huh? Sleep well, Judas."

Though Tony's face suddenly turned pale, he said nothing, observing Matt through quiet eyes. He paced before Sam's cell, and the two struck up a conversation. Ava couldn't hear what they said, for they spoke in such quiet tones. She noticed Scott listening intently to the conversation, though he kept his mouth shut--a first. 

Finally, Stark turned, and she made brief eye contact with him. He didn't acknowledge her, and she didn't dare give him any satisfaction by hurling useless insults at him. Stark lowered his head and retreated from the room. 

Ava watched as Sam lowered himself onto his cot, placing his head in his hands. Scott made eye contact with Ava and gave her a tiny shrug. 

"Clint?" she called out hesitantly, for he was the one she could hear best.

"Yeah?" he answered quietly, defeat in his voice.

"Do we have any kind of sentence? How long are we in here for?"

"Indefinitely."

She didn't answer but retreated to the comfort, or lack thereof, of her cot. He had children...a wife. People expecting him to come home. Ava thought back to her own boy... He used to cry whenever she would leave. But she always promised to come right back. What if her parents were worried about her right now? She hadn't talked to them in so long...it was for their own safety, she'd always claimed. Ava knew that was a lie. She'd always known she just couldn't face them. Not brave enough perhaps. The idea of not being able to protect her own child, due to the job she had and her ex-husband. The guilt was unbearable, and she couldn't bear the idea of facing her parents. But was it fair? They'd loved her just as she'd loved her own child. Did they worry for her?

"Guys, I'm starving..." Scott's whiny voice echoed through the room.

"We're all hungry," Sam's miserable voice followed.

"Don't they feed us?" she inquired.

"Twice a day...yeah. And it's good food too," Sam confirmed, "but it's only twice a day. Still get hungry. They gave us some food a few hours ago."

**********

The rest of the day passed endlessly. There was little to do, and her own fears and guilts ate away at her little by little with nothing to take her mind off it. Minimal conversation passed between the Avengers, but there just wasn't much to say. She curled up on her side and pressed her finger gently to the scarred skin around her eye. The immediate pain had long since passed, but a feeling of loathing for Tony Stark had replaced it.


	27. Chapter 27

_“AVENGERS IN CUSTODY. ROGERS AND BARNES ESCAPE.”_

Karis scanned the headline with wide eyes as she rested on the couch in Foggy’s living room. It was early the next morning, and she was exhausted, having tossed and turned the whole night. 

“I have to help them,” she declared.

“No,” Foggy replied sternly. “Matt told me to keep you safe, and that’s what I’m gonna do.”

“Matt’s not here,” she retorted. “He’s in a jail cell.”

“You’re not in any condition to fight,” he argued.

“I’m not a child, Foggy!”

“I never said you were, but—”

“Then stop treating me like one! You have no idea what I’ve been through—what I’ve seen.”

“Because you’ve hardly said a word since you’ve gotten here!”

She was on her feet, chest rising and falling rapidly, and for the first time since her encounter with Zelia, she felt a strange tingle run down the back of her right hand. After a moment’s hesitation, Karis shot him a condescending glare.

“You wouldn’t understand.” 

She was angry—angry because she knew he was right. She had no idea how to find her friends, and even if she did, she didn’t know if she would be capable of rescuing them. Lowering her head, Karis scowled bitterly.

“Humans are cowards. They fear what they do not understand.”

“Karis…” he interjected cautiously, “you’re human.”

She met his gaze, hers detached and distant. “No, not really.” 

He gaped at her, and the tense silence was suddenly broken by a knock at the door. Karis hesitated long enough for Foggy to rise from the couch and answer it first. As it swung open, his eyes went wide, and her lips parted in shock. 

“Hello,” said Loki with a wicked smile. 

He gestured casually with his hand, and a flicker of green energy sent Foggy to the floor in a crumpled heap. 

“How did you…?” she trailed off as he strode purposefully inside and closed the door behind him. “What did you do to him?!”

“He didn’t feel a thing,” Loki answered nonchalantly.

“Will he be all right?”

“You care far too much for the lives of mortals.” 

When she shot him a glare, he added resentfully, “He’ll be fine.” 

Satisfied, Karis directed her attention completely to him as he approached. “I was worried about you. Adva said you would send someone…”

“The risk was unnecessary,” Loki explained. “I only rely on others when I have no other choice.” 

“What became of Zelia?”

“She and the other Dark Gods fled when they realized that you were gone and that the tide of the battle was not in their favor.”

Her jaw clenched in disappointment. “She got away then...”

He observed her carefully, his eyes drifting slowly down to her injured arm. “She hurt you.”

“Barely got away in one piece,” Karis responded tightly. 

“Midgardian medicine can only go so far,” he remarked. “The Healers will tend to it when we get back to Asgard.”

Loki must have perceived her uncertainty, his brow furrowing. Karis was conflicted. Matt was in prison. Her friends needed her, but she couldn’t help them without the use of her arm. Loki was offering to fix that problem.

“All right, let’s go,” she said with a nod.

There was a flicker of relief on his face as he quickly summoned a portal, not allowing her time to second guess herself. Taking a deep breath, Karis followed him through, casting a last, lingering glance at Foggy’s unconscious form before he and the rest of the apartment was left far behind.


	28. Chapter 28

Ava rolled over on the cot, groaning as she slammed the pillow over her head. The clanging of her tray on the floor was a sound she was growing used to but still despised. 7:00 am was too early for her. She curled up tighter on the cot and tried to drown out the sound of the other Avengers rising to eat.

"Could you all shut up?" she called out, trying to get some more sleep in.

"No," Scott laughed.

Ava groaned and sat wearily, rubbing her sleep-deprived eyes. The thin cot and freezing room was not ideal for sleeping.

"Just get up and eat like the rest of us," Clint murmured miserably.

Ava was emotionally exhausted as well. Days droned by endlessly. She thought they were on day four now...it's not like it was hard to keep track of. With no real reason to get up, Ava drifted back off into sleep, perhaps for another hour or so.

"Hey, Ava." A voice emerged from right outside her glass.

She rolled over again and pounded the pillow further down over her ears. There was some laughter, and she groggily lifted her head. Clint stood in front of her glass, Sam at his side. She blinked several times, certain she was still dreaming.

Suddenly, she heard the familiar sound of her door swinging in, and she stood, trying to make sense of what was happening while still half asleep. Steve held out a hand to her and, with a smile suddenly lighting up her face, she practically jumped on him, wrapping her arms around him. He seemed extremely surprised, staggering backwards from her sudden outburst. She held on tightly, unwilling to let go for a moment. Steve laughed excitedly and pulled away.

"I don't understand. How'd you do this?" she inquired.

"I'll explain later. I doubt we have a whole lot of time. I took out, I believe, all of the guards. Systems are down, but we still have to hurry. I have a jet."

She followed him back into the main hold. Scott came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her, lifting her into the air. She squealed in delight, then clamped a hand over her mouth, surprised at herself. The guys were looking at her with a strange mixture of curiosity and confusion.

"All right, we need to get Wanda," Steve confirmed. "Who can tell me where she's being held?"

"Steve," Clint interrupted, "I'll go get Wanda. You get everyone else going. We'll meet you in two minutes, tops."

Steve locked eyes with Sam before nodding. "Go."

The air became more solemn as she followed Steve back through their captors' area. As they ran past fallen bodies, he grabbed a large bag next to the door. She wasn't sure what was inside, but now wasn't the time to question. Scott ran beside him, asking pointless questions. Matt followed quietly behind her, Sam bringing up the rear. Ava didn't have any hesitation when staring down at the fallen men and women, and there was no guilt as she stepped on a hand or foot.

"How were you able to do this, Steve?" Ava asked in awe.

"His dark side," Sam smiled mischievously.

Her mouth fell open in obvious shock as they stepped into a large, open hanger. Ava still had no idea where they were. She had been unconscious when they'd been brought in. Steve's craft was small, but they could all fit, she was sure.

Suddenly, there came the sounds of shouts from the left, and Steve's eyes grew wide. Scott jumped into the craft, and Ava followed suit. Matt aided her as she struggled up into the ship, his strong hand guiding her inside. Steve and Sam waited outside, watching for Wanda and Clint. As they rushed into sight, Ava realized Clint was carrying her. Wanda curled into his arms, binders still on her wrists and chest.

"Let's go!" Steve commanded.

As they boarded, Ava heard a shattering sound as something above them gave way. The ship whirred to life as Steve took the controls. Suddenly, she could hear the pattering of rain against the roof, and she stumbled to her feet, staring out of one of the tiny windows.

They rose higher into the air, a naval base becoming smaller and smaller. She realized now what their prison was, and her face turned white. There would have been no release. Not without Steve.

As relief began to spread through her, she turned to gaze around at everyone with them. Matt sat on the floor, halfway unzipping his jumpsuit to reveal the white t-shirt underneath. Sam sat next to Steve at the controls, and Scott was staring up at the ceiling blankly. Clint was trying to get the restraints off of Wanda.

As he finally got them off, she heard Wanda choke back a sob, falling into Clint's lap. There were tears streaming down her cheeks, and Clint softly whispered words of comfort to her. Ava watched as Wanda struggled to stand, Clint aiding her, and then wrapped her arms around his neck.

"You're back with us now," he whispered to her. "It's okay."

"Clint, it was horrible," she whispered, pulling back and brushing away her last tears.

"I know," he murmured, casting his eyes to the floor.

"Steve?" Ava asked suddenly. "Where's Bucky?"

His comforting voice said nothing, silence reigning.

"Yeah," Sam chimed in, "where is Barnes?"

Still, Steve stayed silent, peering into the dark clouds before him. Clint gazed over at Ava, and Scott tilted his head. Her heart began to beat a tad faster as she glided forward silently, coming to stand behind him. As she laid her hand upon her shoulder, he jumped at the touch.

"Steve?"

When he refused to make eye contact with her, she began to grow seriously worried.

"Let me um...just get us to safety and we'll talk. Okay, Ava?"

She swiftly removed her hand from his shoulder and nodded. She lowered herself onto the floor next to Matt and closed her eyes, leaning her head back against the wall.

"I'm sure it's nothing," Scott murmured unhelpfully.

**********

Ava didn't realize she had fallen asleep until she felt the jet come to a lurching landing. Her eyes popped open to a much brighter light filling the jet. The door had been opened, but as far as she could tell, no one had disembarked yet.

She could see green foliage and tall trees outside the door, and surprise spread through her. Steve was standing from his chair with increasing hesitancy. Matt was still sitting beside her, his eyes closed too, possibly asleep.

Her eyes followed Steve as he came to kneel before her. Sam stood behind him, gazing down at his boots silently. Scott watched the whole exchange curiously, lips parted. Wanda was asleep on Clint's shoulder, though Clint had his eyes fixed on Ava intently.

"Ava," Steve began, "this is for you."

He pulled a crumpled envelope from his jacket pocket. She took it in trembling fingers and recognized Bucky's scribbled handwriting.

"Steve, is Bucky still alive?" she asked, a catch in her throat.

He glanced at Sam helplessly before nodding. "In a way. He made a decision, Ava...for his safety...the people's safety, and yours. He decided to...go back under."

"What do you mean?" she answered, face paling. Ava was afraid of what he was going to say, though almost certain she understood.

"You know what I mean," he confirmed. "He didn't think he could trust himself... Some things happened while under Stark's custody...and he didn't want to hurt you or anyone else."

"For how long?" she asked, stone-faced.

"Indefinitely. That...can't be determined. He said it was until they could find away to...to fix his mind I guess."

Ava could see the pain swirling in Steve's own eyes as he related it all to her. She didn't say anything, biting her lip in a desperate attempt to keep from crying.

"What's the letter say?" she finally asked, voice crystal clear.

"I don't know... I didn't read it," he admitted.

She stared at it silently, then stood, rousing Matt.

"Are you okay?" Steve asked uncertainly.

She didn't answer, walking rigidly towards the door. Placing her hand on the rail, she disembarked from the jet. When her boots landed in the soft dirt, she sighed, gazing around her unseeingly. A pleasant wind blew upon her face, the sun shining down brightly.

"Ava?" Steve's voice was less of an echo out here. "I know it hurts," he guessed.

She turned and gazed beyond him to where Clint was helping Wanda down. He was whispering softly to her, and her eyes kept shooting over to Ava. Matt followed behind them, his face a mask of uncertainty. Scott followed last, but he came right to her side. He didn't wait for her to say anything, wrapping his arms around her.

It was as though this broke all of the reservation she had left. Ava collapsed into sobs on his shoulder, her fingers grasping his t-shirt, her knuckle over her injured eye. She kept her face buried against him, no longer worried about embarrassment or keeping up a reputation. Bucky had left her, and it didn't matter anymore.

Finally, she sniffed and pulled away, placing her hand over her mouth to stop any further sobs. Steve placed his hand gently on her neck and leaned in, kissing her on the cheek.

"He cared about you," he smiled.

She could barely keep back the rest of her sobs as Clint came forward, also wrapping her in a hug. Her tears were minimal as she wrapped her arms around his neck. He buried a hand in her hair at the back of her neck and held her close.

"I'm sorry, Ava," he whispered as he pulled away.

"Where are we?" she finally had the courage to ask, trying to wipe away the rest of her tears.

"Wakanda."

Steve's answer took her by surprise, and she stepped backwards, glancing aimlessly into the trees.

"Follow me," he said with a sad smile, gesturing them forward.

A clear path marked a way forward, and Ava fell in line beside Scott, slipping her hand into his. He glanced down at her with a strange mixture of pity and happiness. She didn't really watch where they were going until they approached the large complex. It rose up out of a mountain side, and her eyes widened in shock.

Steve turned and smiled humorously and continued his stride forward. "Though you may be hesitant to be kind to our host, I assure you, he's very hospitable," he smiled.

Ava's unrest grew as a young man walked toward them. She recognized him immediately from her previous encounter with Stark, Nat, and himself. She backed up slowly, running into Clint's chest. He placed both hands on her arms to hold her steady.

"He fought with Stark, Rogers," Clint confirmed.

"He's realized the mistake," Steve smiled, clapping the young man on the shoulder. "This is T'Challa, for those who don't know him," he smiled.

Ava ventured forward hesitantly and extended her hand. T'Challa smiled, warmly returning the gesture. His brow furrowed in confusion, however, as he observed her closer.

"Have you been crying?"

She pulled her hand away self-consciously and turned, unwilling to make anymore eye contact.

"She was close with Bucky," Steve supplied.

"If there's anything we can do," the man's voice continued, "to make you feel at home, or more comfortable, just let us know."

She turned, nodding briefly.

The Avengers followed him into his mountain home, and he led them through the halls, pointing to numerous wonders and prides. Ava could barely listen, her head pounding and tears building in her eye. Scott continued to walk beside her, occasionally placing a hand on her back to guide her when she lost focus.

Finally, they stopped and Ava glanced around curiously. Wanda was being shown into a room. T'Challa then turned to her.

"Would this suit you?" he asked, opening the door to the right of Wanda's.

She glanced hesitantly at Scott, then into the room. It was decorated lavishly, with a large bed and a bathroom. There was a window overlooking the trees and the surrounding landscape. Overall, it was beautiful.

"Thank you," she murmured with a smile, turning and placing her letter on the dresser.

She waited until the others had passed on before picking it up again with trembling fingers. With a wild, beating heart, she opened it.


	29. Chapter 29

“Asgardians have enhanced cellular regeneration. That is why the nerves, muscles, and tissues in your arm are repairing themselves at an accelerated rate. Can you feel this?”

Karis glanced down as the woman prodded one of her fingertips. She nodded, unable to stifle the grin that was spreading across her face. The Healers’ magic, along with her natural regenerative abilities, had already restored many of her arm’s previous functions. She curled her fingers in and out, testing her control over them.

“There will still be scarring,” the Healer cautioned, fearing that her joy had come too soon.

“That’s all right,” Karis replied gratefully. “It could’ve been much worse.”

She glanced over at Loki, who leaned casually against the doorway. His smile stirred a now familiar flutter in her stomach, and she quickly looked away. The Healers finally released her, having removed her cast but warning her to not exert her arm for several more days. Thanking them, Karis climbed off the medical table and returned to Loki, who was patiently waiting for her.

“Would you like to change?” he inquired with a smirk as they ventured into the adjacent hallway.

“Yes please,” she responded emphatically. “I feel quite ridiculous wandering around in a nightgown.”

He shrugged. “I could get used to it.”

“Don’t make me slap you,” she threatened.

“I might enjoy it.”

“Oh shut up.”

Despite her cold response, Karis could feel her cheeks flushing, so she proceeded to avoid his gaze until they came to a stop outside her room.

“Don’t follow me,” she warned, moving past him.

“I wouldn’t dare,” he smirked as the door closed in his face.

**********

“I hate waiting,” Karis remarked as she stood at the balcony railing a short while later, a gentle breeze ruffling her hair.

“For what?” Loki inquired, standing at her side.

She took a deep breath, not knowing how he was going to take this. “My friends—the Avengers—some of them have been locked up, imprisoned unjustly, and I intend to free them.”

He sighed. “Why do you insist on involving yourself in their trivial affairs?”

She looked up into his indifferent features. “Because I care about them. Surely you understand. Surely you know what it’s like to care for someone.”

He looked away, his steely gaze sweeping over the kingdom below.

“I know you do,” Karis pressed. When he remained silent, she turned her body completely to face him. “Loki…all this time, and you never told me.”

He glanced her way as she went on.

“Zelia did. She told me my…she told me that my name is Morgana. Is it true?”

His expression softened as he look her steadily in the eye. “Yes.”

She gave a soft gasp. “Why didn’t you…?” She couldn’t bring herself to finish the question. “So Karis is just—?”

“A false identity that Zelia forged inside your mind,” he finished gently, remaining consciously sensitive of her fragile state.

She turned away, gripping the railing with white-knuckled hands.

“There is time,” Loki continued, “to unlock the rest of your memories before you return to Midgard, if that is what your heart desires.”

“And what will I find?” she questioned, meeting his gaze.

He swallowed. “That is for you alone to discover.”

She pondered his words while he waited, finally coming to a decision. Bravely, she looked up at him.

“I want to try again. I’m ready. I want to know everything.”

**********

She was back in the void of her own consciousness, disembodied. Anxiously, Karis’ eyes darted to and fro, awaiting the inevitable arrival of the personification of Zelia’s curse. It wouldn’t take long, she knew, for Loki was making his move to destroy it once and for all. All she had to do was survive.

Slowly, silently, the tentacles came, sliding over the ground with a spine-chilling hiss as they crept towards her from all sides. She spun in all directions while they continued to emerge from the darkness, frantically planning her escape. At the last possible moment, Karis got a running start and leaped over them, hitting the ground in a sprint and not daring to look back. She had learned her lesson.

She thought she was running, but sometimes it felt more like floating. She was never certain, for reality was fluid in this immaterial state, ever-changing. An otherwordly shriek sounded behind her, and Karis made a sharp turn, wondering how long it would take Loki to bring the barriers down. Desperately, she glanced over her shoulder and thrust a hand backwards. Light spilled from her fingertips, temporarily delaying the monster that pursued her.

On and on she ran until at last, she was confronted with a dead end. Her hands descended desperately upon the invisible obstacle in her path, pounding with all her might. But it didn’t budge. Eyes wide with terror, Karis whirled to face her foe. The phantom loomed overhead, its tentacles encircling her. She was trapped. In a last-ditch effort, she fired a steady beam of energy from her hands, hoping to gain just a few more seconds.

The wraith’s progress was slowed, but it kept coming. Karis closed her eyes as light continued to burst from her palms, awaiting the end. Suddenly, the creature emitted a terrible scream, shrill and ear-splitting. Her eyes flew open, watching as the apparition writhed and began to disintegrate. A cluster of green energy, like a virus, was eating away at and devouring the darkness. Karis looked on in amazement, the light having ceased pouring from her hands.

As the monster began to collapse inward, a final shriek echoed across the void, and there was a blinding flash when it burst into a scattered mass of atomic particles. Karis shielded her face with her arm and shut her eyes, slowly beginning to realize that she was tumbling wildly through empty space, as if the ground had fallen out from beneath her. When she opened them again, she was lying on a flat, solid surface, having felt no pain from the impact.

“Mother, I want to learn how to use magic. I want to learn how to fight!”

Karis stared with wide eyes as she was suddenly drawn into the scene: a young girl with long golden locks and a tall, slender woman striding confidently at her side.

“Leave the fighting to the men,” her mother scolded. “You are destined for greater things than bleeding to death on a battlefield. Become a Healer if you wish to use magic.”

A change of scene. Smoke and flickering torches blended together as everything started to spin.

“Father! Father!”

She was older now. Relentlessly, she shook the lifeless body lying on the floor. it was cold. Everything was cold.

“If you had become a Healer, perhaps you could have saved him!”

Sobs reverberated through nothingness, and then she was standing with flowers in her hands and her hair, gazing into the eyes of a man she did not love. One night, she was sitting alone in the mead hall while she watched him dance with every woman but her.

“How is it that a breathtaking woman such as yourself finds herself unaccompanied on an evening such as this?”

Turning, she looked up into the face of a man with raven hair and piercing eyes. “I let the dog off his leash.”

“How fortunate,” he smirked, taking a seat beside her. “I’m Loki.”

A smile tugged at the corners of her lips. “Morgana.”

And that was where it began, the secret love affair that never once plagued her conscience. Many days and nights flew by, moonlight trysts and stolen kisses beneath a starry sky. This blissful time in her life was interrupted one fateful evening, the night that her husband discovered the truth.

“You think I don’t know what you’re doing—where you’re going?!” he bellowed.

“As if you care,” she sneered venomously. “You’re a pig, wallowing in the mud with the rest of them.”

Viciously, he swung, the back of his hand striking her across the face and sending her to the floor.

“I gave you a life! A home!”

She crawled away from him as he pursued her, blind with rage. Her hand fell upon the table, snatching the dagger that lay there. As he grabbed her shoulders from behind and spun her roughly to face him, she plunged the blade into his chest. She gazed coldly into his eyes as he dropped to his knees. The anger had drained from his features, replaced by a sorrowful sense of betrayal. Slowly, he became limp and fell against her, blood soaking the front of her dress.

“A house,” she whispered in his ear, “never a home.”

Pulling the dagger from his body, Morgana pushed him off of her and stood as he hit the floor with a dull thud. There was only the slightest hint of regret within her dark soul.

Much time had passed now. She retired to her chamber, hoping for an evening of rest, but someone was waiting for her—a traitor. Perrikus. He struck her in the back of the head with a vase just as she turned to defend herself. Glass shattered everywhere as she crumpled to the ground, Zelia joining him as they stood over her with triumphant grins.

“What should we do now?” she heard him ask as her consciousness faded away.

“Do not concern yourself,” said Zelia. “I will get rid of her.”

**********

Her eyes flew open with a gasp, her fingers still entwined with Loki’s. Sweat beaded on his brow, and both of them were out of breath. Her heart was pounding, all of the color drained from her face. She was struggling to process everything that she had just seen, and several moments passed before she could bring herself to meet his gaze. There was an expectant, almost hopeful look in his eyes.

“I remember you,” she murmured, tears flooding her vision. “I remember everything."


	30. Chapter 30

_'Ava, I'm sorry you couldn't be here. You mean a lot to me, and I thought it would be too difficult if you were. I never want to hurt you...or anyone else. I feel like I'm doing the best thing for everyone, though I know it will hurt you and Steve. I'll come back to you. That's a promise. I just don't know when. I've tried to tell you this before, but I guess I'm a coward. I want you to know Ava..._

I love you.

__

_\- Bucky'_

She didn't move for some time, staring at the words. Lightly, she touched them with her fingertips, then smiled. She stood next to the windows and gazed out over the landscape. Her wish was to have him there standing beside her to enjoy it. Hearing a knock on the door, Ava turned and cocked her head with curiosity.

"Come in."

A woman entered, head low, and offered Ava a bundle of clothes. "I hope they're to your satisfaction," she mumbled.

Ava took them from her gratefully and nodded. She closed the door with a heavy sigh and stripped down, anxious to clean all the dirt and grime off. She filled the tub with warm, soapy water and sank into it, sighing in relief.

As she emerged, she gazed over all of the clothes the woman had brought her. A couple of clean t-shirts, a pair of sweatpants, and a toothbrush on top. She changed into a t-shirt and sweatpants and relaced her boots.

Before she left her room, Ava folded up the letter and slid it beneath her pillow. Long ago, she'd lost her picture of her baby, but now she would have Bucky's letter to comfort her at night. She wondered what Noah would have thought of Bucky. Would he have liked him? Ava knew he would have been enthralled by the metal arm. Another smile crossed her face at the thought, and she opened her door quietly.

She emerged, looking both ways. Unfortunately, she hadn't been paying close attention when given the tour, and she didn't know where to go. Down at the end of the hall was a set of glass double doors that led out onto a rather large balcony. Seeing no harm, Ava padded down there barefoot, blonde wet hair falling just above her shoulders. She pushed open the doors and took a deep breath of fresh air.

"Well hey." Clint smiled at her from a chair overlooking the Wakandan landscape.

Ava sank into the one beside him with a smile.

"How you doing?" he asked genuinely.

"I'm okay," she admitted.

He cocked his eyebrow and gazed at her curiously.

"What?" she asked somewhat defensively.

"Nothing. You've changed, you know?"

"What do you mean?" she asked, gazing away from him.

"You hugged Steve this morning. Out of pure joy. And...you let Scott hold you while you cried. You've never let any of us get that close before. You hugged me today, Ava."

She blushed silently and stared up at the blue sky. "I dunno..." she whispered, "I wasn't always a jerk."

"What?"

"I wasn't. I guess...I guess I was hurt. You know."

"Yeah I know."

"And it just took a while to-to trust anyone again."

"Do you trust us now?"

She hesitated a moment, then glanced over at him with a smile. "I think so."

"Well then I'm going to ask... How are you taking this Bucky thing?"

She swallowed heavily and shrugged, biting the inside of her cheek. "Better than I would have thought. His letter helped."

"What did it say?"

She blushed further, staring at her hands, and didn't say anything. Clint smiled curiously.

"What...getting all embarrassed now?" he teased.

"It was personal!" she defended.

"Come on, Ava!" he prodded stubbornly.

"He said he'd come back. And he wished I could have been there...but thought it would be too hard."

"Oh."

Clint's teasing smile fell, and he didn't say anything more. The awkward silence grew until finally, the door was opened, breaking the tension.

"Rogers, I need to get in contact with her."

"I don't know how to help you, Matt."

Steve and Matt came out onto the balcony, and Ava turned, cocking her head.

"She's at Foggy's--worried. I can't let her keeping waiting around with no word from me."

"We can't get in contact with her right now. I'm sorry, Matt."

Matt ran a hand through his messy brown hair and sighed.

"Hey, Clint. Ava," Steve nodded.

Both merely nodded, not interrupting.

Matt walked forward slowly and took a deep breath. "I promised I would come right back." He shook his head.

"Things don't always work out like we expected," Ava murmured.

Matt turned his head toward the sound of her voice. "Hm?"

"You were doing what you had to do, and Karis will understand. At least you are coming back to her. Could be worse..." Her voice trailed off.

Steve laid his hand soothingly on her shoulder, and she smiled gratefully at him.

Matt nodded, sinking into the chair on his right. "I'm sorry, Ava."

"Don't be. You have a right to worry about Karis."

"I'm not worried about her... I know where she is. She's with Foggy. I don't want her to worry about me."

"We'll contact her as soon as we can, Matt," Steve insisted.

Matt nodded and said nothing more.


	31. Chapter 31

“Loki…” a sob escaped Morgana’s throat as she threw her arms around his neck, “thank you.”

She was feeling everything at once: joy and relief at having her memories returned, as well as sorrow and regret for the terrible things she had done. Her moments of happiness were accompanied by a thousand years of pain and suffering that she had become accustomed to ignoring. Now she was being forced to face all of it at once.

“I-I’ve killed so many people,” Morgana confessed in a trembling voice.

“Not without cause,” he replied.

“Freyr…he didn’t deserve it.”

Loki drew back slightly, looking her in the eye. “You hated him, Morgana.”

“As foul and despicable as his behavior was, he did not deserve to die. I could've left him!”

“He would have come for us.”

“We could’ve run away together! We could’ve left all of this behind.”

There were tears streaming down her face as he shook his head in response.

“That was never what you wanted. You wanted power—a kingdom.”

“I wanted you!” she cried.

“Don’t lie to yourself, Morgana. This was always about more than our feelings for each other.”

She sat back, observing him through blurred vision, her breathing shallow and irregular. “Was it worth it—all we did to get here? Are you satisfied?”

Loki’s lip curled as he looked away.

“You murdered your own father! You imprisoned your brother! If I became an obstacle in your path to glory, would I too be cast aside?”

His pale orbs flashed dangerously as they met hers. “You’re being irrational.”

“Am I?”

Morgana’s voice had become deathly quiet, their eyes waging silent war. He sneered—it was a defense mechanism, she knew, a tell-tale sign that he did not like where this conversation was going. When she did not falter, Loki's grin faded, his features becoming stone-cold—unreadable.

“You’ve changed, Morgana,” he remarked coolly.

“So have you,” she replied.

Without another word, he rose and abruptly left the room, leaving her sitting alone on the edge of the bed as she stared blankly at the far wall. Morgana’s emotions were a tangled mess, her lust for revenge burning just as intensely as her newfound desire to do what was right. She didn’t know how she felt or what she believed about anything—not anymore. At this very moment, she knew that Thor was rotting in a cell somewhere beneath the palace, utterly powerless without his mighty hammer Mjolnir. Where it was now, she hadn’t the slightest idea, for she had not been involved in the Asgardian’s capture.

However, Morgana remembered smiling wickedly at him as he was dragged away in chains. She had never liked him. His arrogance was nauseating. For a brief moment, she wondered if she had been too quick to judge him, but she quickly brushed the thought aside. She had much more pressing issues to worry about than Thor Odinson.

**********

As Morgana passed under the grand archway, moonlight flooded in behind her, illuminating the entire hall with an eerie white glow. She paused in the entryway, her keen eyes searching the chamber beyond. Satisfied with her conclusion that it was indeed empty, she ventured inside. Towering columns and ornately carved windows passed her by on both sides, casting strange patterns of light and shadow onto the tiled floor. However, Morgana’s sole focus was upon something that loomed ahead, pieces of it gleaming in shards of moonlight.

The throne of Asgard—it had been so long since she laid eyes upon it. There were few sights that surpassed its magnificent beauty. She couldn’t decide whether seeing it vacant was ominous or serene. She stood admiring the throne’s splendor for some time before reverently mounting its golden steps. Morgana’s blue gown trailed behind her, the sound her heels made with each stride reverberating throughout the hall.

Slowly, she turned to face the entrance, taking a deep breath to steady herself. There was a very particular reason she had chosen to come here tonight. She could not resume her search for Matt until her arm had at least partially healed, but that didn’t mean that she couldn’t give her mind some rest by discovering his location and ensuring that he was unharmed. It was well known in Asgard that the one who sat upon the throne could see all that transpired throughout the Nine Realms.

Carefully, Morgana sank into the golden chair for the first time. Her fingers instinctively gripped the armrests as her head started to spin. The hall, the palace—Asgard vanished. She was seeing stars, galaxies, tens of trillions of lives. Overwhelmed by the sheer amount of information she was receiving, it took Morgana some time to gather her wits about her. Allowing her own magical abilities to meld with the enchantment placed upon the throne, she managed to focus in on Earth, then the United States, then New York, and finally Foggy’s apartment.

To her dismay, she saw him sitting alone at the kitchen table, mindlessly stirring a bowl of spaghetti. His expression was one of utter defeat, and Matt was nowhere to be seen. Swallowing, Morgana withdrew and widened her search once again. There were thousands, perhaps millions of prisons in the world—how long would it take her to find the correct one? She paused. What if searching the prisons was unnecessary? What if there was a better way?

Morgana shifted her focus away from the prisons and instead directed it entirely to one individual, one person, one soul hidden amongst the masses—Matthew Murdock. Desperately, fervently, she sought that single lifeforce, and, at last, she found it. A continent—Africa. Nation—Wakanda. Hurtling downward at the speed of light, Morgana found herself staring into a dark room.

The light switch wasn’t on. Neither was the lamp. Moonlight filtered in through the open window, curtains rustled softly by a pleasant breeze, but he didn’t need it either. Matt was content to sit quietly in the dark, for it was all he knew. He wasn’t in prison, no. In fact, he seemed to be at the center of paradise, safe and far removed from Tony Stark and the power-hungry politicians who sought to control the Avengers and anyone else who had taken it upon themselves to protect mankind.

But no one would have known it from his expression. Instead of sleeping peacefully, Matt sat wide awake, gazing blankly into the darkness. His brow was furrowed, and he shifted restlessly, like an animal trapped in a cage. She would have given anything to reach out, to let him know that she was there, that he wasn’t alone. But that was not to be.

She was being torn away from him, the jungle and the Earth becoming smaller and smaller until they were specks that she could no longer perceive. Morgana was thrust back into her material body, where she still sat upon the throne, and she almost tumbled forward. She found herself unexpectedly drained and feeling very lightheaded. It seemed that removing the curse from her mind and now this in the same day had not been a wise idea. She buried her face in her hands, rubbing her aching forehead.

It seemed that Matt and the others were not in need of rescuing after all, but why were they in Wakanda? Why had they chosen it as their path of escape? Were they really going to give up New York so easily? Now that Matt was no longer in prison, Morgana realized, there was nothing stopping her from paying him a visit any time she pleased. Nothing except for the truth.

What would he think of her when he found out that she was a murderer? A liar? A usurper? Her hands were covered in blood that she would never be able to wash away. Matt had never killed anyone. She didn’t deserve him.

Trembling, Morgana stood and cautiously descended the steps. Her legs were shaking, heart pounding. It would require all of her remaining energy just to make it back to her room. Her exhaustion provided her with an excuse to forget about everything else except for putting one foot in front of the other. Sometimes forgetting was a welcome escape—one that she had chosen to eradicate before realizing the consequences that came with remembering who she once was.

It had been just as she feared—a nightmare, a daydream—something in between.


	32. Chapter 32

Ava panted heavily, the hot air causing her shirt to stick to her body. Her hair was plastered to her forehead, and her chest burned from lack of air.

"Can I-can I get some water?" she asked of the servant standing and waiting by the door.

The young girl smiled and nodded, retreating inside to get the water. Ava placed her hands on her knees, choking to get air into her lungs.

"Working hard?"

She glanced up to see Steve standing near, hands on his hips. He wore a gray fitted t-shirt and sweatpants, a half smile on his face.

"Yeah. Gets my mind off things, ya know?"

"That works?"

"Sometimes," she chuckled, "I still think about him. Even when I'm running. Just...less."

He stretched silently and nodded. "Think about anything else?"

"Karis," she admitted. "I'm worried about her."

Steve rubbed the back of his neck and grimaced. "Yeah Matt is too. I just don't think we can get in touch with her right now. I don't really know what to do, Ava. It's not like I have a plan."

She saw the frustration in his eyes and came to his side, laying a hand on his shoulder. "Steve, you don't have to be some perfect leader. We fight with you no matter what. If that means staying here in Wakanda for a while...well so be it. We've been here a week and, so far, we all like it. If we have to go elsewhere, we'll do it. If we have to face Tony again...well, we follow you."

He smiled gratefully at her.

"I know...this Bucky thing," she swallowed, "has to be hard on you too."

He didn't say anything, avoiding eye contact.

"Steve?"

Finally, he met her gaze and nodded. "It's all really hard. Tony was my friend. Bucky was my best friend. And I don't know what's left."

She lowered herself into the grass, and he followed suit. "I know what you mean," she admitted. "I feel pretty alone."

Their gazes met, and they shared a silent smile.

"If you could say something to him...what would it be?" Steve asked quietly.

"I'd tell him exactly how I feel about him."

He watched her curiously as her eyes drifted down, and she fidgeted slightly.

"Well...?" he prodded.

"I love him, Steve," she whispered. "I kinda thought I would never know what love feels like. But...I know I love him. I know I do."

Steve didn't say anything, and neither did she. Ava laid back and watched the gray clouds drifting lifelessly over the sky.

"Um..." a small voice arose.

She glanced over at Steve, but he too was lying back. Sitting up curiously, she realized the young girl had returned and brought a couple of water bottles. One for her and one for Steve.

"Thank you."

The girl smiled and let herself back into the building.

"Think fast," she muttered, tossing him the bottle.

He laughed, reaching out and catching it in mid air. She laid back and sighed, her thoughts unconsciously slipping into a daydream about Bucky.

**********

"Ava? Ava?"

She moaned, rolling over and slapping the ground. The feeling of wet grass got her attention, and she blinked heavily, sitting up with a yawn. Steve laid his hand on her back as she shook her head, trying to wake up.

"Ava, we fell asleep. It's been raining."

She looked at him and saw his blond hair plastered to his face. With a little laugh, she got to her feet, almost slipping. Steve rested his hand on her back as they ran back through the rain to the building. Ava slipped right before getting to the door, taking them both down into the mud. Steve laughed loudly, trying to wipe it off his face.

"You guys look like idiots!"

Ava glanced up to see Clint leaning out his window and laughing at them. "Oh shut up, Clint! Or I'll come up there and share the mud with you!" she teased.

He smirked at her but said no more. As she tried to get to her feet, she slipped again, face-planting into the mud. Steve couldn't stop laughing as both of them got to their feet, dripping and muddy in the doorway of the side entrance.

"Do you think we should take our shoes off?" Steve asked in a whisper.

She pointed to his clothes. "I don't think taking your shoes off would do much good."

He looked around uncomfortably, then held open the door that led to the stairs. She could hear the water squishing in her shoes as they ran up the stairs.

"We're gonna have to clean this up," Steve lamented, staring at their mud tracks.

She shook her head with a smile and slipped inside her room.

**********

Later that afternoon, Ava was randomly wandering the halls. She'd had a shower and was changed back into Bucky's now clean t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. She shoved her hands into her pockets as she climbed the stairs, her blonde hair dripping onto her shoulders. Her bare feet were cool against the tile, and she could hear laughter a couple of floors below.

The almost empty top floor was a sterile white color, several doors leading off to separate rooms. The silence was eerie as her feet squeaked upon the smooth floor. The closest door to her had a large sign on it with a red "X" and words she couldn't read. There was a small window at the top, and when Ava stood up on her tiptoes, she could barely see inside.

Suddenly, she gasped, dropping back down and placing both hands on the door. She recognized that contraption. Her heart beat sped up drastically, and she placed both hands on her head. With a sickening feeling, she curled her fingers on the doorknob and tried to push it open. Of course it was locked.

"Would you like to go in?"

She spun on her heel and gasped. T'Challa stood behind her, hands clasped firmly in front of him.

"W-what?" she stuttered, backing against the door.

"If you would like to go in, I can arrange that."

"I....I wouldn't mind..."

There was a pitying smile on his face as he produced a key from his pocket and indicated that she should move to the side. Ava obediently waited as he unlocked the door and swung it inward. She hardly noticed T'Challa anymore as she stepped forward silently, drawn to him.

Bucky was in that thing--she knew it.

As she drew closer, Ava couldn't stop the tears from pooling in her eyes. Biting her lip, she stared up at the little window, his face visible. He looked at peace, relaxed and ready. Her head was pounding as she knelt at the base, tears dripping down her cheeks.

Though a beautiful landscape was visible to her right through a clear glass window, Ava saw nothing. Her vision was blurred by her tears as she sobbed, knees tucked under her and her hands on the cold tile floor.

"Please come back..." she whispered desperately, longing to feel his calming touch.

"May I do anything?" T'Challa's voice arose from the doorway.

Ava turned her head, wiping away her tears and sniffing. "No...thank you... I just...um..."

"Shall I get Steve?"

"No!" She stuck out a hand, then glanced back up at T'Challa. "He has to deal with enough."

"I doubt that he would-"

"Please don't," she begged, feeling more tears slip down her cheeks.

"All right. If there's anything I can do, let me know."

He shut the door and left her alone. She stood again till she could look up at his face.

There was a chair nearby, and Ava dragged it over the spotless floor. As she stood on it, she found herself even with his eyes. She laid a hand on the glass and then her forehead.

"I love you."


	33. Chapter 33

The next morning found Morgana standing silently at the window, eyes sweeping over the kingdom she had stolen. When she and the other Dark Gods had first claimed it for themselves, she had swelled with immense pride and had entertained the idea that she and Loki would rule Asgard together. She had always despised Odin and was not sorry to see him go—at the time. Now, she saw the power vacuum that was left in the wake of his death, power that she and the other Dark Gods had been waging war over ever since. Zelia, Perrikus, Tokkots, Slototh—all of them had betrayed her. Not that she had ever cared much for the latter two; their primary uses were eliminating targets and providing distractions.

A knock sounded at the door, and Morgana turned. “It’s open.”

Timidly, Fulla entered the room. There was a tray of food in her petite hands. “Forgive me if I disturbed you, my lady. His Majesty gave me the impression that things did not go as he had planned yesterday, and…well, I thought that you might like to dine here this morning.”

Morgana’s brow furrowed with sympathy. “Thank you, Fulla. You can leave it on the table.” She paused, watching as the maidservant followed her instructions. “Fulla…did Loki tell you? About what happened yesterday?”

“No, but word spreads quickly through the palace, as you already know,” she replied, cautiously meeting her gaze.

“Well, I want you to know that there is no need to fear me, not any longer,” Morgana assured her. “I know that I haven’t treated you kindly in the past—I remember that now—and I wanted to apologize. When I didn’t see you during the attack on the palace, I was concerned for your safety. I’m glad you’re all right.”

Fulla lowered her guard in an instant, a relieved grin brightening her features. “Oh, thank you, my lady! I was so worried when I learned that you had faced Zelia alone. That monstrous woman!”

“Please, call me Morgana from now on,” she smiled.

“Yes, my l—Morgana,” Fulla stammered, correcting herself swiftly.

Her eyes darted sheepishly to the ground, and she wasted no time excusing herself. As the door closed behind her, Morgana made her way over to the table and sat down for breakfast.

**********

The warmth of the sun on her skin was comforting as Morgana walked amongst the gardens, passing beneath the shade of the whispering trees. This was her home, where she had dwelt for the better part of a thousand years, and only now did she remember it. Only now could she appreciate its familiarity, memories of frolicking in grassy fields with the other children, trying to name the various kinds of flowers they discovered. Those were simpler times.

Vaguely, she wondered if her mother was still alive. This wondering was accompanied by a sense of cold detachment, however, for she and her mother had scarcely spoken since her father’s death. Their relationship had been contested before, but after his unexpected loss, her mother had been anxious get rid of her and had not-so-secretly blamed her for his death. Though she knew that it wasn’t her fault, Morgana had always asked herself if there was something—anything—she could have done to prevent it. But the man she blamed, the monster who had murdered him, was long since dead. She had tracked him down and killed him herself.

Had it replaced her father? Had it filled the gaping wound in her heart? Certainly not, but it had temporarily satisfied her craving for vengeance, for justice—two entities that she often considered to be one and the same—and that was enough.

Shortly after this, her mother had forced her into an arranged marriage with a man she hardly knew: Freyr. Morgana had never forgiven her. Then, of course, she had met Loki, and the rest was history. He was the only man with whom she had ever fallen in love, and Zelia had sought to strip her of that happiness. Perhaps she had succeeded.

Now things were much more complicated. Her feelings for Matt caused her a great deal of confusion, as well as her attachments to the other friends she had made back on Earth. But she didn’t belong there. She never had. How could she ever make a life for herself there? Did she even want to?

Turning, Morgana jumped as she spotted Loki standing several yards behind her. With a gasp, her hand flew to her chest, and her surprise was swiftly replaced by indignation. “How long have you been standing there?!”

“Long enough to know that you’re agonizing over something,” he answered deliberately.

Wearily, she placed her hands on her hips as he approached. “Think you can read my mind now, do you?”

“I don’t have to,” he replied.

She glanced up, taken aback by his humorless expression. “Loki…”

“Don’t,” he interrupted, holding up a hand as he turned away. “I already know.”

Morgana’s brow furrowed as her eyes followed him. “You’ve been spying on me? All this time, you’ve been watching me?!”

“I was ensuring your safety,” he snapped, whirling on her, “and unfortunately, that included witnessing you offer your affections to another man—a mortal! How could you allow yourself to become preoccupied with such insignificant—”

“I believed myself to be one of them!” she exclaimed. “I didn’t remember you! I didn’t remember anything! What was I supposed to do?!”

Exasperated, Loki rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding her gaze. She consciously slowed her breath and fought to lower her voice.

“Is a star’s beauty determined by the number of years it burns, or by the scope of its brightness?”

His eyes met hers. “Thor chose to tread the path of the mortals, and look at the chaos it has wrought. Our worlds were never meant to coincide.”

“If we didn’t, another would,” she responded firmly, “and then what? We allow them to go extinct? They need us. We can protect them.”

“Are we gods, that it is our duty to become the saviors of a lesser race?”

“Did you not believe yourself to be when you sought to rule over them?” Morgana retorted.

Laughing bitterly, he began to pace, considering how to handle her strange shift in behavior. Finally, he stopped and turned to face her.

“Why?” he asked simply. “Why have you come to care for them so strongly?”

She swallowed, mustering her courage. “Because I believe that each mortal is equal in worth to any Asgardian. They have souls, they live and die, just as we do. Does it truly matter for how long? Power…power comes and goes. I was taught that lesson by my unfortunate loss of memory and the curse that was placed upon my mind. Value, real value, doesn’t come from power, but from the bonds that we form with each other.”

Loki observed her silently, recognizing the sincerity with which she spoke. “Do you no longer care for me, then? Are you going to leave everything behind for…for them?”

“I never said that,” she replied, stepping toward him. “Zelia’s curse could not steal away my feelings for you—not permanently. I…I miss you, Loki.”

“Do you?” he said quietly, that playful smirk she loved so dearly tugging at the corner of his lips. “Convince me.”

He was dangerously close now, and Morgana shook her head with an expression of mock disdain. “Oh, I’m regretting it now…”

“Will you always be so stubborn?”

“Do you have any idea how difficult this is for me?” she responded sharply, flustered. “Resisting you?”

“Then don’t."

He closed the remaining distance between them, and their lips met with a crash as she was caught up in his embrace. Her hands were buried in his raven hair, his at her back. His touch felt so familiar, so right. Eventually, they broke the kiss but remained close, their lips inches apart. Eyes closed, both of them savored simply being in the other’s presence after having been separated for so long.

“Well?” she breathed. “Have I convinced you?”

“I might require further persuasion…”

She smiled as he leaned in for another kiss.


	34. Chapter 34

Ava sat on the couch with her knees tucked up to her chest. She stared sightlessly at the far wall, blonde hair falling over her eyes, a hand resting on her forehead. There was the smell of burning popcorn in the far corner of the room, and she could hear Scott teasing Wanda. Steve sat down beside her, but she didn't glance over.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you he was here," he spoke suddenly.

Her eyes drifted down to her clenched fist, and she met his gaze. "I understand."

"I thought it would only make it harder."

"I understand, Steve." She could hear the rough tone of voice she used, but there was no regret.

They sat together in silence for a short period of time, listening to Scott and Wanda argue harmlessly.

"Rogers."

Both Ava and Steve turned to see Matt standing in the doorway. Scott's laughter died down. Steve stood solemnly and cleared his throat.

"It's time we talk. You've been putting me off for too long. I've tried several times."

Steve sighed wearily, and Ava felt a pang of guilt. The man looked so beaten down.

"Rogers, that's enough. It's time to go back. We can't keep hiding here!" Matt's voice was rising in anger.

"Matt, I don't know what to say," Steve sighed. "It's not the time. That will only make things worse. I know you miss Karis, but-"

"This is not just about Karis," he interrupted, his face red. "This is about my people. The people we're supposed to protect. When I'm not there, the people lose their protection. If I'm gone...someone dies. Someone innocent. Or is locked away without reason or cause."

"Matt-" Steve's voice was rising as well.

"I can't live with myself knowing that I'm hiding here."

"Yeah, Steve. I'm sorry, but I agree with Matt," Clint's voice chimed in as he entered the room.

Ava watched as Steve's face fell.

"I've gotta see my kids, man. And my wife. Plus, we're doing no good here."

Steve rubbed the back of his neck and closed his eyes. "Now isn't the time," he muttered angrily.

"When will it be time?" Matt interjected.

There was an unmistakable fire in his eyes. He'd been put off for too long, Ava could clearly see.

"Rogers, you're acting like a coward."

Steve's jaw clenched, and he stared Matt down, taking a slight step forward.

Clint suddenly cleared his throat. "Can we at least begin...preparing?"

Steve glanced at him and sighed wearily. His gaze shifted to Sam, who stood on the far side of the room next to Scott. He merely shrugged, and Steve looked over at Ava. She held his gaze and gave the tiniest of nods.

"I don't think this is right. I don't think this is how we should approach the situation. But...I can't...I can't deny you all."

Matt's anger lessened, and he gave a small nod, turning and leaving the room. Steve sank into the couch, placing his head in his hands. Sam came to his other side and sat beside him, laying a hand on his shoulder.

"Dude. Stop blaming yourself for all of this."

Ava couldn't bear to listen to Steve speak of his guilt, so she quickly rose to her feet. Steve glanced up, but he didn't seem to be focusing on her anymore. Averting her eyes, Ava pushed past Sam and followed Matt out. She could see him at the base of a stairwell, leaning against the wall, eyes closed. He wore a black t-shirt and jeans, brown hair lightly tousled.

"Matt?" she murmured quietly, anxious to move past him and onto the stairs.

He lifted his head and glanced toward her, shoulders tensing. She bit her lip anxiously. He hadn't moved.

"E-excuse me..." she muttered, laying a hand on his arm.

His eyes followed her as he stepped to the side--sight or not.

"You agree right?" his voice cut through.

She slowed, already on the fifth step. "What?"

"You agree with me? You know I'm right? Yeah?"

Her eyes fell to the floor, and she shifted uncomfortably. "Maybe... I haven't agreed with some of Steve's decisions lately."

"People are defenseless without me," he muttered, self-reassuringly.

"Yeah..." Ava shifted again, rubbing her arm. "Are you worried about Karis?" she asked, grasping for conversation.

She almost thought she saw his cheeks tinge pink. However, it quickly disappeared.

"I'm always worried about her. She means a lot to me. I mean...now...I'm not sure what I'd do without her. But I don't need to go back just for her. Contrary to what Steve thinks."

"Do you know what happened to her...while she was gone?"

Matt cleared his throat. "Maybe now isn't the best time..."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pry."

"No. No, it's all right. I'd just rather not discuss it right now."

She rested her hand on the bannister and swallowed. "Well...have a good evening."

He nodded to her, and she turned, running up the stairs. When she reached her door, she hesitated, taking a deep, shaky breath. Ava felt as though she'd been punched in the gut, and she didn't know whether to cry or angrily punch someone.


	35. Chapter 35

“Morgana! Morgana, wake up!”

Her eyes flew open. Loki was leaning over her, his hands on her shoulders. 

“Get up—now!”

His voice was urgent, and she bolted upright, terrified.

“What’s going on?!”

Before he could reply, Loki suddenly cried out in pain, collapsing onto the floor as D’Chel pulled the dagger from his back. A blast of energy shot from Morgana’s hand and sent D’Chel careening against the far wall. The dagger clattered onto the floor. Leaping out of bed, Morgana immediately rushed to Loki’s side. He struggled to rise, using the bedpost to push himself upright.

“Go,” he ordered, breathing heavily. “I’ll hold him off.”

“No, I’m not—”

‘Go to the dungeons. Release Thor.’

His lips hadn’t moved; the communication had been made telepathically. Hesitating, Morgana finally nodded and made a break for the door. However, D’Chel, too, had risen and lunged toward her with the dagger raised high. He was intercepted by Loki, who tackled him to the ground. Casting an anxious glance over her shoulder, she fled into the hall, hearing a resounding crack as Loki landed the first punch.

There was no time to think, no time to process what was happening. D’Chel had betrayed them?! Heart pounding, Morgana raced through the dimly lit halls, torches roaring by on either side. Down the stairs she flew, her surroundings growing steadily darker until she finally rounded the last corner. Blinded by the light emanating from the cell block ahead, she squinted as she continued to advance.

Criminals of all sorts were housed within, along with others who were not. Lady Sif and the Warriors Three were among them, as well as the all-seeing Heimdall. But she was not here for them. Morgana briefly scanned the occupants of each cell until she reached the end of the row. There, locked away in solitary confinement, was the Lightning-Caller himself.

He was nearly unrecognizable. His tangled golden locks fell over his striking blue eyes that were once so fearless, so courageous, but now defeated. He wore no armor, no mail, only a tattered shirt and trousers.

“Morgana…”

He glowered at her as she moved swiftly to the access panel and disabled the barrier between them. When she turned to face him again, she was stunned to find herself being thrust back against the wall. Thor’s burly hands were gripping her shoulders, nearly crushing them.

“What are you doing here? Why have you come? To patronize me?!”

“Loki’s in trouble!” she exclaimed frantically. “We need your help! Please!”

“And why would I help you?” he sneered.

“Because I’m granting you your freedom,” Morgana answered with a quiet intensity that caused him to reconsider. “Please—this is life and death. Time is of the essence!”

Thor turned to face the dungeon’s entrance. “Only so that I may kill him myself,” he muttered.

Without another word, he took off, Morgana following closely behind him. Up the stairs and through the corridors they ran until they heard a violent struggle ensuing around the next corner. D’Chel had Loki pinned against the wall, intending to plunge the dagger into his throat, but Loki was fighting him, inch by inch, to keep the lethal blade at bay. With a ferocious roar, Thor seized the back of D’Chel’s robes and hoisted him into the air before sending him crashing into the floor.

Loki stumbled forward, gripping his side as the three of them encircled their fallen foe. Wincing, D’Chel rolled carefully onto his back and glared up at them. His glowing red orbs bored into Loki’s as a cold sneer crept across his features. Suddenly, he vanished from sight, and time stood still. Loki’s eyes darted to Morgana, his face drained of all color, and she looked at him anxiously.

As D’Chel materialized behind her, prepared to deliver the killing blow, Loki extended his hand. There was a blinding flash of green, and Morgana instinctively turned away, shielding her face with her arms. The powerful blast of energy roared past her, colliding with D’Chel and sending him flying backwards through open air. Shards of glass rained down as he shattered the large window behind them and disappeared from view.

Chest heaving, Morgana slowly lowered her arms. Briefly, she gaped at Loki before turning and racing to the window. Peering out into the darkness, she saw that the cobblestone paths below were empty. D’Chel was nowhere to be seen. That gave her no comfort, but Morgana was given little time to ponder it.

“I will have your head for what you have done!”

She spun, hearing Thor’s ferocious growl behind her as he lunged for Loki. Grunting as he was thrust back against the wall yet again, Loki was unable to remove himself from his brother’s grasp.

“Stop!” Morgana cried, seizing one of Thor’s meaty arms in an attempt to pry him away from Loki. “He’s wounded!”

Thor shrugged her off angrily. “He deserves far worse!”

Nevertheless, he released him, shoving Loki away from him with an expression of disgust. Loki staggered and nearly fell, half bent over as blood seeped through his clothing. Morgana hurried to his side.

“Come with me,” she said, placing her hand supportively against his chest. “I’ll take you to the Healers.”

Loki draped his arm over her shoulders, and she noticed that he was leaning heavily against her as they made their way through the dark corridors. Thor followed them at a distance, hands balled into fists at his sides.

“That was not how I expected this night to end,” Loki quipped with a grimace.

Morgana glanced up at him, wondering at the fact that he could find anything about this situation to be humorous.

“Still, it wasn’t all bad, was it?”

Smirking, he met her gaze, and she felt heat rising to her cheeks.

“No,” she answered quietly, smiling back at him, “not bad at all.”


	36. Chapter 36

Ava sat out in the grass, reading a book and munching on an apple. She was lost in the pages, a sense of calm about her. All of it was interrupted, however, by the sound of her own name. Her head snapped up at the call, and Ava swiftly scanned the area.

Clint stalked toward her, hands shoved deep into his pockets. She furrowed her brow, biting into her apple. Neither said a word as he folded his arms over his chest and observed her quietly.

"Steve wanted you to know that we're leaving this evening."

She felt a lump rising quickly in her throat. "Why didn't he tell me himself?"

Clint sighed apologetically and lowered himself beside her. "The man's upset. He's afraid you're still mad at him."

Ava didn't say a word, glancing down at the page her finger nimbly held back.

"Are you?" he inquired.

"Possibly..." she murmured.

"You know...I heard him talking with Wilson. He seems to think you two shared some sort of bond. Having similar internal struggles and whatnot. I don't know a lot about that," he shrugged, "but I think Steve needs you to be a friend. Okay?"

"You think it's that easy huh?" she scoffed.

Clint swallowed, lowering his eyes. "Give him a chance," he murmured.

"I won't have much opportunity," she muttered, setting her apple core down beside her.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that I'm not going back. I support Matt's need to return. Yours. Everyone's need. But I need to stay here."

"You're kidding?" he scoffed.

"Bucky's here," she shrugged almost indifferently.

"I think that is part of what's holding Steve back."

"Bucky?" she whispered.

"Yeah. He's leaving because the rest of us insist. Not because he's ready. Maybe you should talk to him."

"I'm staying in Wakanda, Barton. Until T'Challa can find some sort of cure."

Clint's gaze held her own, and finally, he stood with a sigh. "You're so stubborn." He shook his head, bringing a crack of a smile to her lips.

**********

That afternoon, she stood in Steve's doorway, uncertainly rubbing her arm. He emerged from his bathroom, wearing jeans and a white t-shirt, a towel around his shoulders, blond hair messy and wet.

"Steve?" she murmured.

He turned around on the spot and raised an eyebrow in surprise.

"Can we talk for a minute?" she asked meekly.

He nodded and pushed some dirty clothes off of his bed, making room for her to sit. He opted not to sit, instead rummaging through a drawer to his right.

"I think we needed to talk," he murmured quietly.

"Yeah probably."

"I wish you weren't mad at me," he blurted out.

She didn't say anything, running a hand through her blonde hair. "I'm not going home," she shrugged.

His hand stopped, and slowly, he turned to face her. "What?" 

"I'm not coming. I'd like to stay here."

Her eyes fell to the floor as Steve took a step closer.

"Is this because I didn't tell you Bucky was here? Are you really that mad?"

"No, Steve," she admitted, "it's not just that. I was a little upset with you. But now that I know he's here...how am I supposed to leave?"

She felt him sit beside her and place a hand on her knee.

"I feel the same way."

"But, Steve-"

"Ava, can you realistically expect to stay here? In Wakanda?"

"What's waiting for me back there?"

"You have a family right?"

A pang of guilt struck her chest. "Yes..."

"You could go see them."

"I wanted to stay away because..."

"You were cleared in your trial."

Ava sighed heavily and stood, running a hand through her hair. "But he's here, Steve."

His sympathetic eyes followed her as she stepped softly from the room. "Ava."

She turned, jaw clenched, and glanced at him. Without a word, he enveloped her in a hug.

"We'll miss you."

She wrapped her arms around him, resting her head against his chest.

"You did talk to T'Challa right?" he inquired.

"Yeah." 

She could barely hear his tiny sigh of disappointment. His fingers gripped her shoulders as he pulled away.

"If you decide you want to come home, we'll work out a way."

"Thank you, Steve," she whispered almost silently, unable to meet his eyes. She turned, shutting his door behind her. 

The rest of her evening was spent in her room, awaiting their departure, avoiding saying goodbye to the people she cared about.


	37. Chapter 37

The only thing that prevented Thor from exacting his revenge upon Loki was the fact that he was without his mighty hammer Mjolnir. It was with much consideration of the future and the possibility of Thor’s escape that Loki had cast an enchantment upon the weapon when his brother was apprehended in a foreign realm some time ago. This had been the most effective measure that Loki could employ at the time, due to the fact that he was unable to lift the hammer. Now, despite Thor’s release, he was powerless to stop Loki or any of his schemes. 

“He is being closely watched by the guards at all times,” said Loki, sitting comfortably upon the throne. “He does not take a single step without my knowledge.”

“But why have you freed him?” Morgana questioned as she stood before him. “I do not believe that it was as simple as using him to defeat D’Chel.”

“Correct,” he admitted, fingers pressed against his temple. His elbow rested casually on the armrest. “Zelia knows now that she cannot conquer Asgard with circumstances are they are. She will need an army, and we must be prepared to defeat that army.” 

“We’ve lost D’Chel,” she replied, disheartened, “and what makes you think that we will be capable of convincing Thor to fight alongside us?”

Loki leaned forward slowly and steepled his fingers. “Because he will have no other choice.”

“You mean to return Mjolnir to his hand, then?” 

“It is not with any glee that I do this,” he muttered bitterly. “Thor will become an obstacle before this conflict ends, but it is a necessary evil…”

“An obstacle to what, exactly?”

He smiled, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “My dear Morgana, do you not know?”

Standing, Loki smoothly descended the wide steps, green cape flowing. All the while, he held her gaze, and she watched him silently. Pausing with only a small space remaining between them, he spoke once more. 

“I mean to rule this realm as long as I live, and I want you by my side.” 

She didn’t reply, lowering her head as her cheeks flushed ever so slightly. Loki ventured closer, his smile unwavering. 

“Well?”

“I think we’re getting a little ahead of ourselves,” said Morgana, meeting his gaze. “Adva is our only remaining ally, and forcing Thor to fight for our cause will not be enough to defeat Zelia and her army. Do you not hear your soldiers whispering amongst themselves and conspiring against you? They remain loyal to the Allfather even after his death.” 

Scowling, he averted his gaze. “Some will fight.”

“But not most,” she pressed. “They will abandon you. They will choose Thor.” 

“What would you have me do?” Loki hissed, his face inches from hers. 

Morgana swallowed hard. “I have allies.”

He drew back slowly, lips parting. “Oh…I understand now. This is all a ruse, a foolish hope that you might see your beloved mortal again.”

“We cannot do this alone,” she maintained firmly. 

“You are not one of them, Morgana, and you never will be!”

A fuse had been lit, burning and simmering as it grew shorter and shorter. Her guarded exterior was rapidly melting away. 

“You are consumed with envy!” she burst, eyes blazing. 

“Does that surprise you?” he returned with bitter sarcasm. 

“No, it isn’t because of Matt! It’s because you cannot bear the thought of me befriending a mortal!! You despise them because you think they are beneath you!”

“So did you, once.” 

“Yes, but I have changed!” Morgana cried, tears burning in her eyes. “Do you love me for who I am now, or for who I once was?” 

Loki was silent, his gaze piercing her own. Finally, she turned sharply on her heel and strode several paces away before hesitating.

“Are you going to try to stop me?” she asked quietly. 

“Not this time.”

Closing her eyes, Morgana allowed her misery to seep through the cracks in her facade, knowing that he could no longer see her face. What was she doing? What was she feeling? Even she didn’t know, but she was going to see Matt, and nothing—no one—was going to stop her.

Out of the throne room and down the stairs she went, and Morgana did not stop until she had crossed the Rainbow Bridge and stood at the portal of the Bifrost. Surrounded by the familiar rush of brilliant colors, she dove headfirst through space and time, having envisioned her destination. She could only hope that she was not too late, and that Matt was still in Wakanda.

In a moment, everything stopped. Light. Sound. For a brief instant, there was nothing but silence as Morgana’s feet contacted solid ground. The world stood still. Slowly, she straightened, her surroundings materializing instantaneously. Muffled Midgardian curses reached her ears, the engine of a Quinjet roaring nearby. She had landed on a raised platform that was situated just above the canopy of the surrounding jungle, and directly across from her, the Avengers were boarding the jet. 

Matt, who was apparently the last to board, had been in the process of climbing the loading ramp when she arrived. Sam Wilson and another man who looked vaguely familiar stood at the opening, gaping at her with stunned expressions. Having heard the commotion behind him, Matt stopped and turned to face her. Terrified and relieved all at once, Morgana called out to him.

“Matthew!”

His glasses prevented her from seeing his eyes, but his mouth fell open, and he took a small step forward.

“Karis?”

A powerful tropical wind was whipping across the platform due to its high elevation, and the skirt of Morgana’s black gown billowed behind her as she advanced. She saw Sam, who was obviously concerned, say something to Matt that he deliberately ignored. Descending the ramp, he walked steadily towards her until they met at the center of the platform. There was a distinct difference in his posture, however—more guarded, more distant. He stopped, leaving several feet of space between them, and shoved his hands into his pockets. 

Morgana eyed him cautiously, concerned but not surprised by his cold reception. Several tense moments passed before he spoke, and she was completely unaware of Ava appearing in the doorway of the building behind her. 

“I called Foggy,” Matt said finally, his voice flat. “He said that a man fitting Loki’s description came to his door, and when he woke up, both of you were gone. Now here you are, completely unscathed.”

“Matt, I can explain—”

“Don’t bother, Karis. You’ve allied yourself with a man who’s killed hundreds of New Yorkers!”

“Morgana,” she said quietly, glancing up at him. 

His head tilted in confusion. “What?”

“My name is Morgana,” she repeated, more firmly this time. Raising her head proudly, she went on. “I know who I am now, what I’ve done. The monster who cursed me is raising an army to conquer Asgard, and I need your help—all of you.” 

Her eyes swiveled to the Quinjet, where all of the Avengers had now gathered and were staring at her silently. 

“Why?” he retorted. “So that Loki can stay in power? Is that why Thor has vanished?”

“I have freed Thor,” she responded quickly, “and he is going to fight with us.” 

Turning, Matt glanced back over his shoulder at Steve, who was listening to all of this with great consternation. 

“If we are defeated,” Morgana continued, “Earth will no longer have Asgard as an ally. You need us, and we need you.”

Matt said nothing, deferring to whatever decision Rogers decided to make. Deep in thought, several moments passed before Steve met her imploring gaze. 

“So,” she inquired hopefully, “what will it be?”


	38. Chapter 38

Ava stumbled forward, clouds rolling overhead. Steve stood rigid, eyes fixed on Morgana.

"Whoa," Ava interjected, stepping forward. "I don't mean to overstep a boundary...but that's it? That's all we get?" she shrugged.

Morgana's eyes flickered over to Ava uncertainly.

"I can't be expected to make such an important decision with so little information, Karis. I mean...Morgana," Steve returned.

"Time is of the essence," Morgana insisted.

Ava noticed something different now in the way she spoke and stood. She was changed. Matt still said nothing, his face now angled towards the ground.

"Come aboard, Morgana, and lets talk first," Steve spoke firmly.

There was a slight disappointment in Morgana's eyes as she moved past Matt and onto the quinjet. Ava watched silently, feeling very removed. Matt followed Morgana, but Steve waited in the opening.

"Come join us," he nodded.

Though Ava said nothing, a small smile appeared at the corners of her lips. Steve placed his hand gently on her shoulder as they walked inside together. Morgana leaned against the wall, facing them, and Ava took in her whole appearance. There was less uncertainty about her, a new confidence, though she looked slightly shaken. Despite all of that, Ava could see a faint grief lurking behind her eyes.

No one said a word as Steve stared at her anxiously. Matt sat to the right, listening but not participating.

Ava hesitated before opening her mouth. "Morgana...you mean to tell us that you no longer have memory loss?"

"Yes," she nodded. "I know who I am. I'm not from Earth."

Everyone seemed to stiffen slightly.

"And you speak of a monster who cursed you?" Steve questioned.

"Yes, one who will destroy Asgard."

"Can you go into further detail?" Scott asked curiously, obviously intrigued, his eyes alight.

Ava almost chuckled.

"It would take too long to explain. As I've said...we must hurry."

Steve glanced around, uncertain in his decision. "Though we've experienced harm from Asgard in the past...Thor is a close friend. One who I've come to rely on. And if he is fighting by your side, Morgana, then I trust Thor's decision. We'll help you and Asgard."

Relief spread across Morgana's features, and she broke into a smile. "Thank you. Thank you!"

Ava stood uncertainly now. This seemed to change things for everyone. But did it change things for her?

With his hand still on her shoulder, Steve seemed to sense her tension. "Ava, there's no obligation..."

"I'll go...I suppose."

She wasn't even sure where the words had come from. Something inside her was pulling her towards this. And she knew Bucky would be disappointed if she ran from this, all for him. Steve held back his smile, and Scott surged forward, wrapping an arm around her.

"I couldn't believe you were staying! I'm glad you're not."

She grinned up at him and nodded. Morgana gazed at them all absently, and Ava stole a glance at her.

"So how exactly do we help?" Steve inquired.

"I'll have a portal opened."

Ava's eyes widened. "This....can't be real," she murmured.

Steve turned towards her expectantly. "What?"

"It can't be real."

"Of course it is. I've met Thor and Loki personally."

"But...Asgard...portals... It sounds so...stupid," she shrugged sheepishly.

"So you're...unwilling to help?" Steve asked, downcast.

"No...I will. I'm just not sure...it's...it's real."

Steve's look seemed to convey surprise. "All right. Morgana...go ahead then."

Scott smiled at Ava, and she shrugged. He knew how she felt. She'd told him so before.

"I'm going to ask..." Morgana explained. 

As she continued talking, however, Ava began to tune her out. She rubbed her arm nervously, uncertain now of her split-second decision. Magic...other worlds...portals... It seemed too outrageous to be true.

However, as a portal appeared before her eyes, shock overcame her. She couldn't do this... She could handle anything in this world. But things beyond it? Backing away slowly, Ava hardly noticed Steve's hand grasp her wrist.

"Ava."

Her eyes darted to him, and she took a deep breath as he smiled at her.

"What's wrong?" he whispered softly, pulling her towards the door because Morgana was still speaking.

"It can't be real..." she murmured.

"You don't have to go," he shrugged.

"I....I...."

"But I'll be right here beside you, if you want me to be."

She nodded meekly, and he slid his hand into hers.

"So," Morgana cleared her throat, "it'll transport us directly to Asgard."

Steve nodded understandingly at Morgana, and Sam stepped forward.

"So we just...step inside?"

"Indeed."

Taking a heavy breath, Sam followed orders. Clint grasped Wanda by the shoulders, and they followed behind him. Scott practically dove behind them, leaving Ava, Morgana, Matt, and Steve.

"Matt..." Morgana began uncertainly, "are you...coming?"

Steve and Ava locked eyes. It was clear that the two needed a brief moment of privacy. Without a word of encouragement or warning, Steve pulled her into the portal. A scream escaped her lips as she felt herself pulled closer to Steve, a tight wind pressing at her throat, preventing her from screaming.

As quickly as it had begun, it stopped. Ava could hardly catch her breath, and obviously, Steve felt the same. He lay on his back, and Ava closed her eyes till the world stopped spinning.

"Stand up," Scott's voice hissed.

Ava did as she was told, his arm steadying her as her eyes fluttered open. They stood surrounded by a golden dome, a rainbow bridge stretched out before them. No words came to her lips. Slowly, Steve got to his feet, but he too seemed awestricken.

A moment later, Morgana and Matt appeared, tightlipped and silent.

"Follow me," she murmured briefly, black dress trailing behind her as she boldly moved forward.


	39. Chapter 39

It was a long way to the end of the Bifrost Bridge, where two massive gates stood between them and the Eternal City. Waves crashed below them, the crystalline sea glittering like diamonds beneath a sunset sky. Swaths of deep blues, soft pinks, vivid oranges, and soothing violets streaked overhead as the sun descended to meet the horizon. It was a breathtaking sight for any Asgardian, and utterly overwhelming for one who had never witnessed its splendor before. 

Ava and the others stared about them with wide eyes, their mouths hanging open and their heads constantly swiveling in all directions. Matt, however, did not share their eager curiosity. He walked slowly and carefully, his face tilted downward. His posture was guarded, as if he expected an enemy assault at any given moment. Morgana was discouraged by his blatant display of mistrust, though she could not blame him for it. She was certain that he was wondering by this point if he had ever really known her at all. 

“You live here?!” she heard Scott call incredulously from several yards back. 

With a small laugh, Morgana cast a glance over her shoulder. “Like it, do you?” 

“It’s…very colorful,” he replied, clearly at a loss for words. 

“I wish Pietro was here to see this,” she heard Wanda say quietly, at which point Clint put a comforting arm around her shoulders. 

Sam, unsurprisingly, was snapping pictures on his cellphone. 

“Can’t you just enjoy the view?” said Ava.

“Nah, man, nobody back home is gonna believe this unless I have proof,” he responded with a firm shake of his head. 

At last, they came to stand before the golden gates, which were closed to them and impenetrable from the outside. They looked at each other anxiously, but Morgana waited with silent patience, knowing that their arrival had not gone unnoticed. Finally, there came a deep, metallic groaning as the hinges began to shift, and the gates opened, swinging outward and gliding over the smooth surface of the Rainbow Bridge. The sight that awaited them on the other side was most unexpected, and it caused Steve to raise his shield, Clint to aim his bow, and Matt to clench his fists. 

There sat Loki upon a large, armored stallion, flanked by several rows of Asgardian soldiers. Morgana’s eyes narrowed, and she stepped forward, unintimidated by this elaborate display. 

“What’s this?” said the Trickster with a cunning grin. “These mortals seem to have lost their way and have stumbled into the Realm Eternal. Unfortunate, if one is unwelcome.”

“Enough, Loki!” she rebuked sharply, positioning herself directly between him and her friends. “I will not tolerate your games when it comes to those who have sworn to protect our homeland. You were made aware of their coming. Now, if you would, kindly allow us entrance.” 

He scowled darkly, his gaze fixed upon her own, but she did not falter. Reluctantly, he motioned for the guards to stand down and regarded them with disdain. 

“Very well. Since you are guests of Morgana, I will grant you passage. The length of your stay, however, will depend on how you choose to conduct yourselves from this moment forward.” Pausing emphatically, he gave them a tight-lipped smile. “Welcome to Asgard.” 

**********

The manner of Loki’s greeting had done nothing to lessen the tension between Morgana and the Avengers, a heavy silence looming over them as they made their way to the palace. Its golden spires towered into a swiftly darkening sky as the last sliver of sunlight slipped beneath the sea. Their passage did not go unnoticed by the Asgardians, whose eyes followed them with curiosity. When they entered the palace, Morgana summoned Fulla to show her friends to their new living quarters, they soon departed, all except for Steve. She looked at him with an inquiring expression. 

“I would like to speak to Thor,” he said flatly, his stubborn posture suggesting that she had no choice in the matter. 

She observed him silently, noting the wariness in his eyes. “All you needed to do was ask. Follow me. I will take you to him.”

Steve walked briskly at her side as they passed through the palace’s torch-lit corridors, fists clenched and his every muscle tensed. Morgana looked at him sadly.

“Do you not trust me, Steve?”

“I would like to, K-Morgana, but your associations are questionable, to say the least. Loki is no friend of Earth, and the fact that you have allied yourself with him…concerns me.”

“I have known him longer than you have lived,” she replied. “His motives are more complicated than they might seem.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

Smiling despite the perilousness of their situation, she stopped in front of a closed door, and he watched as she knocked on its wooden surface. 

“Enter,” came a weary voice from within.

Opening the door, Morgana stepped inside, followed closely by Steve. Thor sat in a chair by the fireside, face buried in his hand as he mourned the terrible deeds his brother had wrought. He did not even bother to look up when they came in. 

“Thor, I have brought someone who wishes to speak to you.”

Slowly, reluctantly, he glanced up at them, and his eyes instantly widened. “Steve?” He stood. “What are you doing here?”

“We’ve come to fight for Asgard,” Steve answered firmly, stepping forward. “Morgana told us that your kingdom is in trouble.”

His face fell. “I see.”

“Thor, what happened? How did Loki become king?”

The Asgardian’s eyes swiveled in Morgana’s direction. “Through treachery and deceit—through murder. My father is dead, my friends are imprisoned, and Mjolnir is far from me.”

Steve turned to her accusingly. “You knew all of this?”

“Worse—she was part of it,” Thor said darkly. 

Steve was at a loss for words, his face a mixture of anger and a sense of betrayal. 

“How is it that you know Morgana?” inquired Thor. “How did she convince you to come here?” 

Steve was glaring down at the floor, unable to look at her anymore. “It’s a long story.”

“It matters not now, I suppose. Did the rest of the Avengers come with you?”

“Some, yes,” he nodded. 

“Then there is hope,” said Thor with a smile. “We will fight together.”

On the surface, there was only a singular meaning to his words. He spoke of Zelia and the coming war against the Dark Gods. However, Morgana saw beyond the near future and knew now what would happen if they claimed victory. Thor planned to usurp Loki’s rule, and he was going to use the Avengers to do it.


	40. Chapter 40

Ava glanced about her with a wondering smile as the girl, now introduced to her as Fulla, showed them around the palace.

"This is just AMAZING!" Scott came to her side, smiling excitedly.

"I just-just-"

"Can't believe it," he finished for her.

"Yeah," she shrugged sheepishly. 

Clint talked softly with Wanda, and she watched as they shared a small smile.

"Hey," Sam's voice emerged, "where'd Steve go?"

"Your companion stayed back with Lady Morgana," Fulla explained, opening a large door on the left.

Sam stepped inside and whistled loudly. "Guys....check this out."

A large canopy bed lay at one wall, an open balcony overlooking the vast Asgardian landscape. A plush carpet lay at their feet, and exquisite paintings hung on the walls. A desk and a dresser sat inside, near another doorway which lead into a large bathroom. Ava, who had never known such lavishness,stepped inside in shock.

"Much better than living on the streets, huh?" Sam chuckled at her side.

She nodded wordlessly. 

"We're gonna go find our rooms okay, Ava?"

She turned and smiled tightly at Sam before stepping further inside. Fulla shut the door behind her, and Ava shoved her hands into her pockets. She wore black Jean shorts and a white t-shirt and felt quite out of place in the new atmosphere. Sitting uneasily on the edge of the bed, Ava took a shaky breath. Expectantly, she waited to wake up, almost certain that this couldn't be real.

Finally, as nothing happened, she stood and began exploring the room. There was a dresser in an alcove next to the bathroom full of clothes. Nightdresses, elegant gowns, what seemed similar to common dresses, sandals, jewelry, and makeup. This room was obviously designed for feminine use. There was a plush chair angled towards the balcony, and as Ava pulled aside the curtains, she understood why. 

A beautiful view of the city of Asgard met her eyes. Timidly, she sank into the chair, kicking off her shoes and pulling her knees to her chest, unable to tear her eyes from the view. The sight was dazzling, and she felt at peace. 

**********

Time passed, and Ava began to wonder whether she should leave her room. She paced restlessly on the balcony, where even the gorgeous sights no longer eased her mind. This was all so strange, and there was no word from Morgana.

Finally, she stepped lightly through the room and reached for her door handle, but it was pushed inward. Ava's shocked face blushed as a large man with blonde hair entered. He was extremely muscular, she could tell, despite the loose clothing he wore. His eyes glanced down curiously at her, and Ava bit the inside of her cheek embarrassedly.

"Are you Ava?" he asked gently.

As she opened her lips to speak, Steve stepped in beside the man, and she once again closed her mouth.

"Yeah this is Ava," Steve answered for her with a smile.

She nodded meekly, focusing her gaze on her socks.

"Ava," Steve placed a hand on her shoulder, "I'd like you to meet Thor."

Her eyes widened ever so slightly as she glanced up at him. He smiled good-naturedly and stuck out a hand. She hardly noticed that her fingers were trembling as she shook his hand.

"Do you not speak?" he asked with a hint of compassion in his eyes.

She blushed again and shook her head. "I'm-I'm sorry..."

"Have I frightened you? Steve said you were quite brave and outspoken." 

"N-no....you haven't frightened me." She cleared her throat. "I didn't think you were real."

Thor's brows furrowed for a moment before he burst into laughter. "But you know where you are?" he inquired.

"Yes, but I suppose I hadn't considered the fact that although Asgard was real...you were too."

"Have you not seen me before with your companions?"

"I know you fought alongside the Avengers...but I didn't really believe you were Asgardian...or had powers. Or a hammer."

Steve's grip tightened slightly, and Ava watched Thor's countenance fall slightly.

"Well I assure you, I am real. And there's no need to be frightened."

She nodded, staring up into his kind eyes.

"Ava," Steve spoke, "Thor has invited all of us to dine with him...and Morgana."

"Of course. Thank you," she smiled.

"It was nice to meet you. I believe one of the palace servants will come shortly to show you the way."

Steve smiled at her before following Thor out of the room. As the door shut, Ava let out a shaky breath. Well, that confirmed her fears. Asgard was real.


	41. Chapter 41

Torches flickered along the walls of the dining hall, shadows dancing, and the long golden table at the center of the room gleamed in their light. Everyone was seated, and servants came in and out periodically, each time bringing another course of their meal. Conversation was light and cheerful between Sam and Scott, with Ava and Clint occasionally joining in, but Steve was silent. He hadn’t said much, and his food was mostly untouched as he sat brooding. He hadn’t told the others what he had learned about Morgana because he didn’t think it was his place, and he could only hope that she would accept that responsibility. 

Matt, too, was quiet and not at ease in his new environment. Morgana, who sat at the head of the table, had given him a seat at her side, but her gesture failed to please him. He could sense Steve’s apprehension, and he knew that there was something he wasn’t telling him. 

“All right,” Sam said finally, sitting back in his chair. “Can you guys tell me what’s goin’ on, cause I’m gettin’ some bad vibes here?”

Steve and Thor shared a glance, and Morgana swallowed, carefully laying down her fork. Ava was looking at her questioningly. The silence was deafening, and Scott shifted uncomfortably. Matt’s face was tilted downward, his eyes hidden behind the dark lenses of his glasses. Steve’s gaze swiveled in Morgana’s direction, and she exhaled, gathering her thoughts. At exactly the moment she opened her mouth to speak, however, the doors to the dining hall clanged open. 

All heads turned to see Loki striding confidently into the room, green cloak trailing behind him. “Sorry I’m late,” he announced with a grin. “It seems that Morgana overlooked my invitation.”

“I did not think you would come,” she responded tightly. 

He gave a “hmph” as he surveyed everyone at the table, his gaze briefly lingering on Matt. Slowly and deliberately, Loki passed behind each of them until he came to Morgana. Thor’s eyes followed his each and every move, glittering dangerously in the firelight. Standing behind her, Loki placed his hands firmly on Morgana’s shoulders, and Matt stiffened. He leaned down, whispering softly in her ear, “You’re in my chair.” 

She noticed with dismay that Matt’s knuckles were turning white, but she remained calm and adamantly met Loki’s gaze. “So I am.” 

Scott dropped his spoon. They waited in anxious silence for his response, but it was not at all what they expected. There was a sudden gleam in his eye as he straightened and smiled down at her affectionately. 

“I would accept no lesser treatment for the future Queen of Asgard.”

Matt could contain himself no longer. Shoving back from the table, he stood and stormed out of the room. Morgana shot Loki a disapproving glance before swiftly following him. 

“Matt!” she called, her voice echoing through the dark corridor. 

He was already rounding the next corner, and she broke into a run. 

“Matt! Matt, stop! Do you even know where you’re going?”

When he continued to ignore her, Morgana seized his arm, and he finally stopped, rounding on her angrily. 

“What do you want?” he growled. 

“Matt, I can explain—”

“Have you been with him this whole time?”

“No! I-I didn’t remember anything, Matt! I forgot him, Asgard, all of it! Yes, we were involved, but it was before I lost my memory!”

“And what about now?” he pressed. “He still thinks you’re in love with him, which tells me that you’ve done something to encourage him.”

Tears flooded her vision, a lump forming in her throat. “I’m so sorry, Matt.”

He turned away, knowing that she had just confirmed his fears. 

“I had just gotten my memories back,” Morgana plunged on desperately. “I was confused, Matt. I felt that I had a responsibility to him. We had been together for so long, separated only because of the damage dealt to my mind. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know what was right to do.” 

“Why?” he asked at length. “Why were you with him? Do you know what he’s done?”

“Yes,” she answered quietly, “I know more of the crimes he has committed than anyone.”

He drew back in revulsion as she went on. 

“I was a different person then, Matt. I was lost, betrayed. I did not know where my purpose lay, so I found it in revenge. I disposed of anyone who dared to cross me. Yes, Matt, I am a murderer, just as I feared back when I did not remember. I did so many things that I am not proud of, but there is nothing I can do to take them back. All I can do is…try to be better. You inspired me to do that. You made me want to be better than I was.” 

“I might’ve believed you,” he said slowly, “if you hadn’t gone back to him.”

“Matt, please try to understand—”

“I think I understand well enough,” he interrupted flatly. “It wasn’t difficult for you to forget about me, so why don’t you just make it permanent this time?”

Morgana shuddered as she choked back a sob. “Why…why would you…?”

She could no longer finish a sentence, and she did not have any will left to follow him when he left her standing alone in the dark. Pressing her hand tightly over her mouth in order to suppress her sobs, she fled to the gardens, where she might be left alone.


	42. Chapter 42

Ava watched Morgana run after Matt as Loki lowered himself into her chair, pleased.

"Well..." he stated, locking his long fingers together.

Thor pushed back from the table with barely restrained anger. Something about the way Loki spoke, the way he gazed at them all, made her blood curl. He reminded her of Clarke. The deception, the lies, always one step ahead. 

A hand slid over her knee, and her head whipped to the left in surprise. Clint gazed at her with quiet understanding in his brown eyes. Slowly, her fingers uncurled, and she took a steady breath. When she turned her attention back to Loki, she found that he was watching her. His gaze was unreadable, and it made her uncomfortable. She'd seen one like it many times before.

"I informed Morgana that your presence would only be a burden here," he addressed them all, "but she failed to listen."

"Loki, dare you tempt the people who have come to help you?" Thor seethed.

Steve stood uncertainly beside Thor and placed his hand on his friend's shoulder.

"Oh, brother," Loki chuckled, "you have no power anymore."

Slowly, the others began to stand one at a time. Sam clenched his fists, and Clint stood solemnly as Ava pushed back from the table.

"Oh, I see our dinner has been cut short then?" Loki asked, leaning his chair back from the table.

Wanda's eyes began to widen as she tilted her head, her gaze focused unflinchingly upon Loki. All of a sudden, she cried out in pain, dropping like a rock onto the polished floor.

"Wanda!" Clint rushed to her side, lifting her in his arms.

"Silly mortal," Loki smiled. "Don't you think I've had enough practice guarding my mind? Perhaps you should pay more attention to your own."

Wanda began to shake in Clint's arms as a scream erupted from her lips.

"Stop it!" Clint yelled, shaking Wanda furiously, eyes full of fear.

Steve could take no more, his eyes blazing. "Loki. We've come to help. That's enough."

They stood face to face, eyes full of fury, staring one another down. 

"I suggest," Loki seethed, "that you all leave now."

Scott placed his hand on her shoulder, and Ava met Clint's gaze. She and Scott quickly left, Ava desperately avoiding opening her mouth for fear of responding to Loki. Once in the extravagant hallway, Clint gazed up at them in fear.

"I don't know what he did to Wanda."

Suddenly, she gasped, eyes popping open. Clint knelt as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Hey. Hey, it's okay, Wanda," he murmured.

Steve and Thor walked quickly beyond them, talking in hushed voices. Ava watched them go, curiosity overcoming her.

"Clint," Wanda gasped, "I just want to go back to my room."

Clint nodded, carrying her down the hall and soothing her with whispered words. Scott, Ava, and Sam stood there silently for a moment, glancing between the three of them.

"I...think I'm going to go check on Morgana," she muttered, rubbing her arm.

Neither of the men stopped her as she quietly padded down the hall, shivering from the draft. After a quick stop by her room to grab a jacket, Ava began to restlessly pace the halls.  
She had no intention of actually going find Morgana. She was with Matt, and it was unlikely that Ava's appearance would help anything. Instead, she wandered aimlessly through the palace, gazing at so many beautiful things. 

Suddenly, a sniffling caught in her ears, and Ava stopped, her brow furrowing. To her right was a short hallway, leading into a wide area marked by soft, pale moonlight. As she walked towards it, a variety of new scents met her nose. The smell was almost overwhelming, and suddenly, Ava had to stop, her eyes closing as she leaned against the wall.

"It can be captivating, can't it?"

She turned, surprised, and opened her eyes, finding that Thor was standing quite closely behind her.

"Do you hear that?" she whispered, pointing to the garden.

Thor placed his hand on her shoulder and nodded. She pulled herself out of his grasp and peeked around the corner. Morgana sat on a stone bench, her head in her hands, sobs escaping from her lips. Ava moved forward, but Thor grasped her wrist.

"Wait. She would rather be alone."

Thor placed his hand gently upon her back and led her out of the gardens.

"Don't..." she murmured, biting her lip and pushing his hand away.

"I'm sorry," he murmured uncomfortably.

"Will she be okay?" Ava asked softly, worried for her friend.

"I do not know. Morgana is a...different person now."

Thor stopped at her door, leaning against the wall. "So, Ava, how do you like Asgard?"

She smiled softly and shrugged. "It's been okay."

"If I was in my rightful place...I would truly show you Asgard. Its beauty and people outside the walls."

"I look forward to the day. I'm going to turn in, all right?"

Thor nodded and shoved his hands into his trouser pockets, turning and moving down the hall. Ava excused herself into her room and shut the door behind her. The balcony was still open, and a gentle breeze blew through the open doors.

After a soothing shower, Ava dressed in a silk robe and slid under the covers of her bed, curling on her side. Buck occupied her every sleeping thought as she drifted out of consciousness.


	43. Chapter 43

It was some time before Morgana left the garden, and when she did, she passed silently through dimly lit passages and returned to the dining hall. No one was there. Her guests were gone, and the servants had already come and cleared everything away. At first, she worried that they had suffered some ill fate at the hands of Loki, but the calm, tranquil silence filling the palace told her otherwise. 

“Lady Morgana!”

Startled, she turned to see Fulla hurrying toward her. She carried a torch in her hand, her anxious features glowing in its red light. 

“I’ve been waiting for you to return,” she said breathlessly.

“I am sorry, Fulla,” Morgana replied. “I was…delayed.”

“Do not fear for your guests,” the maidservant assured her. “I made certain that all of them safely returned to their chambers this evening.” 

“And what of Loki?”

“I have not seen him since he left the dining hall,” answered Fulla, clearly unsettled by the mere mention of him. 

Morgana nodded, deep in thought, before addressing her once more. “Thank you, Fulla, for everything. I will retire alone tonight. You need not accompany me.” 

Her brow furrowed with concern. “Are you sure, my lady?”

“Yes. That will be all for tonight, Fulla. You may go.”

**********

Morgana entered her chambers and closed the door behind her with a heavy sigh. It was strange being back in her old room. It reminded her of things she now wished to forget. Ironic, she knew, since it was only a short time ago that she had forgotten all of her past sins. Perhaps Zelia’s cruel scheme was actually a mercy in disguise. 

The chamber was large and open, with an adjoining bath and a balcony. To the right was a hearth with a mantle of black marble and a sofa adorned with velvet cushions. To the left was her bed, which was shrouded by a silken canopy of deep purple, and against the far wall was a chest of many drawers. As Morgana ventured into the room, a soft breeze rustled the floor-length curtains, and she stopped, suddenly getting the feeling that she was not alone. 

“I was beginning to wonder if you had decided to spend your evening elsewhere.”

She whirled around as Loki emerged from the shadows behind her. There was a self-satisfied smirk on his face as he loomed over her.

“I hope you are pleased with yourself,” she returned bitterly. “Your poisonous words have wrought nothing but strife amongst allies.”

“Allies in name only. Their deeds will soon prove otherwise.”

Morgana inhaled a shuddery breath and lowered her head, saying nothing in reply. His smile slowly faded as he moved closer, his brow furrowing. 

“You’ve been crying.”

“Your skills of observation are extraordinary,” she responded darkly, her voice dripping with sarcasm. 

His lips were pressed tightly together, his jaw clenched. He knew what had transpired. “It was only a matter of time,” he said with a level of detachment that caused anger to boil inside her. 

“Because you made it happen,” she snapped. “You made certain that it did. You thought nothing of the pain it would cause me! You don’t care about anyone but yourself!” 

“My only mistake was in caring for you,” countered Loki, his eyes flashing dangerously. “Feelings such as these are nothing but a curse!”

“Then be free of them!” cried Morgana, tears streaming down her face. "I have cast no spell upon you!”

“If that is your wish, then I will surely grant it!”

“Go then!” 

He hesitated briefly before turning and storming from the room, slamming the door behind him. When he had gone, her hand flew to her chest, the pain nearly doubling her over. She could hardly breathe. Everything was going wrong. Her life was falling apart all over again, and there was no one to catch her this time.


	44. Chapter 44

Green smoke was filling her lungs, and Ava collapsed onto her knees, backed into a corner by the vapors.

"Ava?"

Bucky's voice sounded weak. It trembled.

"Bucky!" 

She screamed for him until her throat was scratchy and dry, her skin starting to bubble under the green air. She collapsed onto her face, pain overtaking her.

**********

Awakening to the sound of her own screams was unpleasant to say the least. A cold sweat beaded on her brow, and images were shooting through her mind. Absently, she pulled a blanket tight around her shoulders and started to cry. The beating of her own heart seemed to drown out any other noise.

"Excuse me..." a voice softly squeaked out.

Ava's tear-streaked eyes lifted to the door, and she regarded Fulla quietly. The maidservant was wearing a nightdress, a robe knotted firmly around her waist. The hair that she normally wore tight upon her head was falling freely down her shoulders.

"Did I wake you?" Ava inquired.

"N-no..." Fulla lied.

Ava sighed and ran a shaky hand through her hair.

"Would...would you like something warm to drink?"

Ava's gratefulness was abounding as she nodded her head slightly. Fully shut the door, and Ava got to her feet, lighting a candle in the bathroom. She stared at her reflection with hollow eyes.

Ava felt like nothing without him. And the one, pitiful word he'd uttered to her in that dream made her miss him more than anything else had.

Gently, she washed her face and noticed her own clothes were soaked with sweat. Stripping, she returned to the room and dug through the many drawers on the dresser till she found something comfortable. A loose-fitting cotton shirt and a pair of men's trousers that she knotted firmly. She was much more comfortable in those than the many dresses. Ava brushed her short blonde hair behind her ear and wrapped up in a blanket at the foot of her bed.

Fulla returned in a moment with a cup of warm liquid. Ava reached for it, thanking the woman numerous times. As Fulla turned to go, however, Ava cleared her throat.

"Would you like to stay and talk?" she asked, taking her first sip of the drink. It was surprisingly like hot chocolate, but with something more sharp that she couldn't place. It warmed her to the core and brought a smile to her face. The drink seemed to taste like familiar memories. 

"You want me to stay?" Fulla turned, confusion written on her face.

"Only if you want. I understand if you would prefer to go back to sleep. I'm sorry I woke you."

"I wouldn't mind talking," Fulla smiled.

As Fulla sat on the edge of the bed, Ava tilted her head to regard her. She seemed shy but hardened, as though she had endured a lot and yet never complained, always keeping it bottled up inside.

"Fulla?"

"Yes?"

"Do you have a family?"

Fulla didn't answer for a moment, her eyes focused on the bedsheets. "Yes," her voice was a quiet whisper, "but they aren't...close. I don't spend much time with them."

"Why?"

"A palace job is demanding."

There seemed now a tiredness in Fulla's voice that Ava hadn't previously recognized.

"Are you married? Or ever been in love?" Ava wasn't sure why she was asking the woman these questions, but it seemed nice to be able to focus on someone else. Plus, Fulla seemed to need someone to talk to.

"I thought....that maybe...I might have been once. I haven't seen him in a while."

"Were you together?"

Fulla shook her head with a blush. "He barely knew me."

"Why?"

"He was...is...a friend of Thor's."

"What's his name?"

"Fandral." The girl blushed again at mentioning the mere name of the man she liked. "You see...I'm a mere palace servant. I had no place to speak to a man like him." Her eyes seemed to glaze over at the thought.

"Did you ever?"

"He spoke to me," she smiled. "He would make conversation with me often. Small talk. Trivial matters...but it always meant so much. His copper locks and devilishly handsome smile always got to me. He hasn't been around...since Thor's disappearance."

"I see..." Ava nodded.

Suddenly, Fulla cleared her throat. "I've talked too much... I'm terribly sorry. You? Have you ever...loved?"

"Yes." Ava found herself smiling.

"And does he love you?"

Ava hesitated a moment before responding. "Yes."

"That's wonderful," Fulla gushed. "It's a shame he's not here."

"I agree with you, Fulla."

The two women shared a smile before Fulla got to her feet.

"You should really rest, my lady. If you think you can."

"Thank you. I enjoyed talking with you." 

"And I with you."

The door closed softly, and Ava placed her drink on the side table, standing and stretching. She wasn't sure what time it was, but judging by the light, it would probably soon be early morning.

**********

As the sun dawned on the palace, Ava excused herself early from her room. Not many people were awake, it seemed. Only a few guards passed her on the way to her destination. Though none spoke about it, Ava realized that her wardrobe decision was probably frowned upon, based upon the looks she received.

As she neared the gardens, a fear struck her. What if Morgana was still inside? Was she okay?

Ava turned the corner and pushed through an iron gate, coming through the back of the gardens instead. The dazzling colors were breathtaking, and Ava couldn't help but smile as she thought about her son. One of his favorite things had been color. He would love to open a box of crayons merely to stare at all of the different colors of wax that were inside.

Now as vivid blues, purples, and pinks danced before her, she thought of how she would have loved to be holding his hand now. And Bucky's too. A slight thrill went through her as the fragrance of the flowers met her nose. With a joyful laugh, Ava twirled in a circle, reaching her fingers out to brush the soft petals.

"Up early as well, I see?" a voice to her left asked.

Embarrassment overcame her, and Ava blushed at the stranger. Scott smiled softly.

"Yes... Couldn't sleep that well anyway," she murmured.

"Don't let me stop your dance," he laughed, indicating that she should continue twirling.

"I wasn't dancing. I...don't dance," she murmured.

"No? Well then, what about dancing with me?"

He held out a hand, and she waited a moment before grinning.

"Yes."

She slid hers into his and let him parade her around the garden. It was not elegant or sophisticated. In fact, he seemed to be trying to make her laugh in any way that he could. As he tripped over his own bare feet and they both landed in the soft grass, her laugh echoed across the garden, his arm still around her waist. He immediately jumped back to his feet, bringing her with him and continuing his amusing dance until neither could go on.

Ava wasn't sure why she allowed him to embarrass her so. Perhaps it was the fact that she hadn't danced since her prom. Or the fact that she liked laughing again, and Scott knew just how to make that happen. Whatever the case, her heart was full as he finally twirled her in a last swirl, bringing her slamming against his chest. Her laughter didn't die down for several moments, and he just grinned at her as he caught his breath, arm around her.

"I swear..." he murmured. "If you ever," he took in a breath, "tell another soul that we did this...I'll have to come find you, Ava. 'Cause this would ruin my reputation."

His smile told her that he was trying to tease, and she laughed into his shoulder as she wrapped her arms around him.

"Thank you, Scott."


	45. Chapter 45

Morgana’s heart was heavy as she climbed the wide set of stairs that led to the throne room. The sun was at her back, providing the only bit of warmth she felt, its rays beaming into the grand hall and washing over grand pillars and glistening tiles. Armed guards lined either side of the path to the golden seat, where Loki awaited her arrival. She had been summoned, after all, though she knew not for what. Each step seemed to echo abnormally loud in her ears and reverberate inside her chest, her heart pounding.

When she reached the throne at last, Morgana clasped her hands in front of her and lowered her eyes to the floor. “You sent for me, Your Majesty?”

The sardonic tone of her voice was not lost on him, and Loki sat back, propping his elbow on the armrest. “Zelia is gathering her forces in Narcisson. The Dark Gods will be making war against Asgard soon. A company must be sent to Gymirsgard at once. Mjolnir must be recovered.”

Brow furrowing, she met his gaze. “What are you asking of me?”

“With circumstances as they are, I cannot leave Asgard,” he explained. “You will go in my stead to remove the enchantment from Mjolnir. Take others with you, for the journey will surely be dangerous, but I would advise that you keep your numbers few. You don’t want to attract any…unwanted attention.” 

Morgana was well aware of the sort of “unwanted attention” he was referring to, for Gymirsgard was the realm of dragons. 

“Where will I find Mjolnir?” she inquired, her thoughts already turning to whose lives she would be risking by taking them on this journey. 

“I will describe the nearest possible location to Adva, and she will transport you there. The Bifrost would be a much too…thunderous arrival.” Loki paused, his eyes drifting to the guards. “Once we are granted more privacy, I will share with you the spell you will need and the location of the hammer itself.” 

“Very well,” she said, straightening. “I will choose my companions, and we will leave at dawn.” 

He nodded his approval, and that was the end of their business. Without another word, Morgana departed the throne room. 

**********

She gathered the Avengers in a chamber that was large enough to comfortably accommodate them, and she invited them to have a seat before delivering the bad news. She had already decided beforehand who she was going to take with her, and she knew that those who were not chosen were likely to be disappointed.

“The time has come to reclaim Mjolnir,” she announced. “It must return to Thor’s hand before the forces of Narcisson move against us. I am selecting only a few of you to go on this mission, for the rest of you must remain behind to defend Asgard in the case of an unforeseen attack.” 

“All right, out with it then!” Wilson demanded impatiently. “The suspense is killing us.”

“I think it’s just you, Sam,” Ava replied with a sidelong glance. 

Morgana’s eyes swiveled in his direction, and she took a deep breath. There was no smile on her lips. “The names of those who will take this journey are as follows: Thor, Steve, Wanda, and Ava.”

“Aw, come on!” Wilson objected immediately. 

Matt, who was sitting beside several others on a long sofa, sat back, obviously vexed by her decision. Annoyed, Clint scratched the back of his head, but Scott hardly seemed to care. He was sitting comfortably in a reclined position with his arms propped behind his head, a cheerful smile on his face. He was in Asgard, and that was enough for him. 

“To be left behind is not an insult to your ability or your tenacity,” Morgana added in an attempt to reassure them, consciously making certain that her gaze did not drift in Matt’s direction. “You are being entrusted with the safety of Asgard.”

Sam rolled his eyes but kept his mouth shut this time, and Barton was staring down at the floor. 

“When do we leave?” asked Steve.

“At dawn,” she answered firmly. “The armories and arsenals of Asgard are at your disposal. You are free to take whatever you need. We will meet in the courtyard near the front gate of the palace. Do not be late.”


	46. Chapter 46

Ava couldn't bear to look at her other teammates. Surely they would be angry--upset at least. Clint rose to his feet, shoving his hands in his pockets and clearing his throat.

"Um...probably for the best. I uh, gotta make it home to my kids after all."

Sam stood as well and left quietly without a word. Light filtered onto the floor, and Ava traced her foot absently over it, making patterns with her toe.

"Well...I shall see you all at dawn then," Morgana muttered uncomfortably, standing and clasping her hands behind her back.

Snapping her gaze to Morgana, Ava stood as well. The woman pretended not to see her, moving swiftly through the room and down the hall. Ava parted her lips before glancing at Thor and Steve. Scott was trying to hold a conversation with Matt, though his enthusiasm was lost on the man. Turning, she made her way after Morgana.

"Morgana, please wait!" Ava murmured uncomfortably.

Her footsteps slowed as Morgana stood, back facing her. She waited until Ava came behind her, rubbing her arm self-consciously.

"Listen, I'm...I'm not good at being...like, I dunno...considerate? I guess? But really...what's going on? Are you okay? You and...Matt? What about," Ava swallowed heavily, "Loki?"

Slowly, Morgana turned, her features hollow. Ava suddenly realized how much taller Morgana seemed, how different their friendship itself seemed.

"I do not wish to discuss-"

"I understand," Ava interrupted. "I just wanted you to know that...I'm...still your friend...I guess."

Tears seemed to pool in Morgana's eyes, and she bit her lip. "Thank you. I appreciate that."

Without another word, Morgana turned the corner, leaving Ava standing there sheepishly.

"That was kind," a voice murmured from behind her.

Whirling, Ava found herself staring up into an Asgardian's deep blue eyes.

"Thor!" she mumbled, surprised, taking a step back.

"That was kind of you."

Ava laughed sheepishly. "Well I obviously wasn't any good at it!"

"I disagree. Morgana deals with her problems in her own way. But that doesn't mean that she does not appreciate your efforts."

Brow furrowing, Ava parted her lips, trying to think of something to say.

"Thor!"

Both of their heads turned to see Steve and Wanda making their way towards them.

"Ready?" Steve asked as they neared.

"Yes." Thor cleared his throat. "Ava, would you care to accompany us to the armory?"

She nodded as Steve slid an arm around her shoulders, smiling. They walked slowly, trailing behind Thor and Wanda, who were having an intense conversation about magic. 

"Talk with Karis?" Steve inquired.

"Sort of. She didn't really want to. And I think you mean Morgana," she laughed. 

He slapped his palm against his forehead. "Yes! Of course. Morgana. And I suppose we can't really blame her."

Ava shrugged, staring at the tile below their feet.

"How about you? You okay?" Steve glanced down at her with a curious smile.

"Yeah. I'm fine. And you, Steve?"

He glanced ahead amusedly before answering her question. "Yeah. I'm doing good."

The two shared a smile before realizing that Wanda and Thor had stopped, arriving at the armory.

**********

"It's too big...bulky...I don't like it!" Ava complained as Steve and Wanda held back snickers.

Neither had tried on the Asgardian armor yet. Though there was no mirror, Ava knew that she must look as silly as she felt. Thor approached her from behind, tightening the straps on her shoulders and adjusting the armor. Uncomfortably, she stood there until he was finished. However, when he stepped back, she found that it was lighter and more comfortable.

"Wow...thanks. I really don't think I need it though. I fight hand to hand. I lived on the streets. I promise I can defend myself."

"Against dragons?" he murmured smugly.

Her gaze drifted down, and she shrugged.

"Dragons?" Wanda inquired.

"Indeed. Which is why you too should try these on."

Wanda smiled at Thor meekly and nodded. She did as he asked, and Thor helped her similarly, tightening the armor until it fit her snugly. There was a slight blush on Wanda's cheeks as Thor's hand gripped her shoulder, trying to tighten an extra belt at her waist.

Steve noticed it as well and glanced at Ava, raising an eyebrow. With a suppressed smile, Ava shrugged. Steve had his own suit with him, as well as his shield. Therefore, he had no need for the Asgardian array.

Once the two girls had been fitted, Thor clasped his hands together. "All right. I suppose I shall see you all tomorrow morning."

**********

The next morning found Ava stretched out on the bed and wrapped in a wad of sheets, sound asleep.

"Ava?"

She mumbled incomprehensibly and rolled over, slapping away the intruder.

"Ava!"

Suddenly, she shot up in bed, eyes wide, half groggy with sleep.

"Hey."

Her room was still dark, but she could see Steve sitting on the edge of her bed, Scott standing next to the door. Irritatedly, she threw a pillow over her head and groaned loudly. Steve shook her hesitantly.

"Ava, you've gotta get up. We've gotta go."

"Don't wanna..."

"Move, Steve," she heard Scott laugh.

Suddenly, she felt herself yanked from the bed by her feet, a strangled scream leaving her throat.

"Get up," he laughed, standing over her with a smirk.

Glaring at the two men, Ava rose to her feet, jaw clenched tightly.

"I think she's gonna punch you, Scott," Steve smirked.

"Nah, she wouldn't-"

With a quick jab to his stomach, Ava left him groaning and doubled over. Steve's eyes widened, and he took a step back.

"We do have to go though," he mumbled.

She glanced out over her balcony and saw the soft blue light that settled over everything, indicating that it was almost dawn. "Fine. Wait here."

She excused herself into the bathroom and changed into a clean pair of shorts and Bucky's green t-shirt. Tying back her blonde hair, she quickly washed her face and emerged to find Scott leaning against the wall and Steve nowhere in sight.

"What are you even doing up?" she scowled at him.

"I couldn't sleep. Turns out...I'm having trouble sleeping in such a weird place. Considering where I've slept before," he sighed, "shouldn't be an issue. Yet here I am. Wide awake."

She swallowed heavily and avoided his gaze. "Where'd Steve go?"

"To get your suit."

It was at that moment that Steve stepped back through the door. As she put it all on over her shorts and t-shirt, Steve tried to hold a conversation with her. However, all she could do was yawn and nod, trying hard not to fall asleep on Scott's shoulder.

"All right, Ava," Steve murmured as she finished.

"Let's go," she scowled, marching from the room, head hung low.

"Good luck!" Scott called behind them.


	47. Chapter 47

As Morgana rounded the corner, her throat constricted, hot tears blurring her vision. She blinked them back, taking a slow, painful breath. Despite finding out who she really was, Ava still considered her to be a friend. It was moving and actually quite shocking when she recalled how the others had responded to learning the truth. The gesture of kindness had caught her off guard, and Morgana scolded herself for how coldly she had answered it. 

Away she had fled, as she so often did these days. Matt was lost to her, she had pushed Loki away, and now she was distancing herself from the only friend she had left. Even Steve no longer trusted her. All of this—all of this pain caused by a past that she could not erase. She wondered if it would ever be possible to change the way they saw her now.

Thoughts such as these made sleep difficult to come by that night, and Morgana relentlessly pondered the battles that lay ahead of them, analyzing every potential angle and outcome. Her deepest desire was to ensure that all of them emerged unscathed, but with the Dark Gods, their army, and the steadily intensifying rivalry between Thor and Loki, that seemed a slim possibility. It was likely that she would be forced to choose between Loki’s life and those of her mortal friends, but that was the one thing she could not bring herself to contemplate. She did not know how she would handle such a situation if it arose, and she prayed that it was not as inevitable as it seemed. 

**********

Early the following morning, Morgana's chosen companions met her in the courtyard. Adva waited nearby, having already summoned the portal to Gymirsgard. Steve was wearing his traditional suit and helmet, his new shield (made in Wakanda) slung over his back. Thor, Wanda, and Ava, however, were all clad in full Asgardian armor. Thor carried a large mace (the closest thing he could get to a hammer), and Ava had two daggers strapped to her back, but Wanda carried no weapon. Her magic was all she needed. 

“Ready?” asked Morgana.

“Yes, ma’am,” answered Steve, managing a smile.

As they prepared to depart, Scott appeared at the entrance of the palace, giving them two thumbs up and a cheesy grin. “Say hello to the dragons for me!” he called cheerfully. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, and be back by ten! Drinks are on me!”

A deep laugh rumbled out of Thor’s chest. “I like him.” 

Sam and Clint joined Scott in the doorway, and the Asgardian waved farewell before bravely stepping through the portal. Steve followed shortly after him, then Wanda, then Ava. Morgana hesitated, looking back one last time. Matt was nowhere to be seen, but something beyond explanation caused her to look up. High above, she saw him standing at a window.

Morgana knew that he could not see her, but he was present, he was listening, and she found that to be deeply reassuring in some inexplicable way. Staff in hand, she turned and entered the portal, an almost imperceptible smile on her lips. 

The world seemed to stretch and blur, meshing and spinning wildly before suddenly coming back into focus. The palace and the courtyard were gone, replaced by rolling hills that were dotted with sparse vegetation. Away to the east lay the marshlands, and mountains rose in the west. The sky was pale and blue, but storm clouds gathered in the north. Her companions stood waiting for her. 

“I remember well the location of Mjolnir but have not the means to free it,” said Thor as she began leading them down the dusty path. “I assume that Loki has taught you the necessary spell?”

“Yes,” Morgana nodded. “The enchantment will not be difficult to remove. My chief concern is that we will not find the hammer as it was left. You know as well as I that the serpents are greedy creatures, drawn by weapons and artifacts of immense power.” 

“I have felled beasts more terrible than dragons,” he replied, unfazed. “I do not fear them.”

“Speak for yourself,” muttered Ava, glancing uneasily at their surroundings. 

An hour passed, uneventful save a roar they heard bellowing across the land from a great distance. It came from the northwest, but since they were now heading northeast, Morgana gave it little thought. Ava and Wanda, however, had stopped in their tracks and gone stiff, as if they had been turned to stone. 

“Fear not!” said Thor with a grin. “If we were in any danger, it would have been much louder.”

“Somehow I don’t find that very comforting,” Wanda grumbled as they pressed on. 

“I feel like I’ve been dropped into the Jurassic Park,” added Ava. 

“I’ve seen that,” Steve joined in excitedly. 

Smirking, Ava rolled her eyes. “Yep, dinosaurs. Out of their time…kinda like you.”

“Very funny,” he responded good-naturedly. 

Just then, they reached the crown of the hill they were presently climbing, and Morgana stopped short. “Get down!” she commanded in a harsh whisper. 

They dropped to the ground, peering into the massive crater below. There, lying amidst piles of bones and half-eaten carcasses, was a dragon. Nearly fifty feet in length, it lay curled atop the largest of the bone-mounds, its eyes closed. A low, rhythmic sound rumbled up to them, as if it were rising out of some cavern deep beneath the earth. 

“It’s sleeping,” Wanda remarked with quiet surprise. “I almost…feel sorry for it.” 

“Have you forgotten that this thing would be happy to make a meal out of us?” Steve replied. 

“We have no choice,” said Thor. “I must reclaim Mjolnir, and the serpent will not relinquish it without a fight.” 

Morgana stood, staff in hand. “Let us waste no more time then.”

Electricity crackled around the head of her weapon, and she thrust it downward. Forks of purple lightning shot through the air, striking the dragon with a thunderous crash. A bellow of rage erupted from its scaly throat, and it arose from its slumber in great wrath. 

“Well,” said Steve, “that’s one way to do it.”


	48. Chapter 48

The sky was a pale blue, a comforting color, but the roar from the beast had sent Ava backing up, a look of sheer terror rising on her face. Short, choppy breaths left her lips, and she found her fingers trembling. Suddenly, she backed up against Thor and felt his fingers curl around her shoulders.

"Do not be frightened," he whispered in her ear before yelling loudly to his comrades. "Though the fight will not be easy, we will return victorious!"

Ava felt herself steeled by his declaration, and she took a deep breath, staring down the ridge at the beast. Thor and Morgana were already charging down, followed closely by Steve, who had no hesitation and was locking down his shield. Ava gripped a dagger in each hand and watched as the dragon rose onto its scaly hind legs, uttering a cry louder than anything to ever reach her ears. Though tempted to shrink back, Ava held firm and charged at the dragon, Wanda following her lead, red energy crackling between her fingers.

She watched as Morgana sent another bolt of electricity, scathing its hide with purple energy. With another loud cry, it emitted a beam of fire, turning the once soothing blue sky into a black overcast. Thor was doing the best he could without Mjolnir, having yet to find it.

She watched as Steve jumped over a fallen skeleton and sent his shield flying at the beast's throat. With a terrible roar, it swiped at him, narrowly missing. He yelled out in pain as a breath of scorching fire singed the back of his uniform. With a cry of rage Ava blindly threw one of her many daggers, watching as it lodged itself in the beast's snout. It pawed furiously, succeeding in only driving it in further.

Thor was scaling the dragon now, driving blades along its body. Morgana circled it, watching closely for weak spots while Wanda used her magic to confound the creature. Ava pulled at the long spear strapped to her back and charged, fear filling her heart as she slid over piles of jewels and gold, carelessly trying to pierce the dragon from below. Her spear glanced off harmlessly and was crushed beneath the monster's foot.

"Do not waste opportunities!" Thor yelled harshly, his voice carrying across the crater.

Ava found herself rolling out of the way of the fiery breath, crying out as she felt it burning the left side of her face. Since it was only freshly healed, the pain was devastating as she tumbled over a pile of jewels and carcasses, the smell of burning flesh nauseating to her nostrils. Feeling a hand extended to her, Ava grasped it weakly, Morgana pulling her to her feet.

"Are you all right?" she asked genuinely.

"Yes! Go!"

Ava took off, Morgana falling in behind her. She could see Steve and Thor working together to hinder the beast, driving it back to a further corner of the crater, dragon's blood dripping from its many wounds. Wanda now stood above it, a concentrated look on her face as she summoned a blast within her hands. As it was released from her fingertips, the beast uttered a lifeless cry, falling with a crash upon its hoards.

Thor clapped Steve on the back and laughed heartily, pleased by their success. Ava ran up beside them, a smile upon her face despite the pain. Wanda skidded down the side of the crater and triumphantly placed a foot on the side of the beast.

"Now for Mjolnir," Thor spoke, turning to Morgana.

She nodded silently, opening her mouth to speak, when suddenly, a screech was heard, and all heads whipped back to see Wanda pinned under one of the dragon's deadly, piercing claws, screams erupting from her throat as it mercilessly crushed her, bringing itself to its feet. Without hesitation, Steve shot forward, sending his shield through the beast's eye. 

As it was blinded, it's foreleg shot out, sending Steve flying over the crater with one swoop. As though all the breath had been sucked from her lungs, Ava watched as Steve tumbled over the rough earth. With a final crack of energy, Morgana finally drained the life from the eyes of the dragon, its dying cry the loudest yet heard.

"Quickly, Thor! That will have aroused fear from others."

Ava rushed first to Wanda's side, where Thor kneeled. Her eyes were closed, blood gushing from a wound in her side. One knee was twisted far beyond normal capability, and her body seemed contorted. Thor tore at the bonds of her armor, ripping the leather off to reveal the simple tunic underneath. Quickly, he tore at the seams, revealing the large gash that stretched across her abdomen.

From a drawstring pouch attached to the side of his own armor, he removed a vial of liquid. Dipping one finger inside, he spread the green cream across her wound as her body began to shake.

"Thor, what is that?" Ava muttered anxiously.

He didn't answer for some time, taking strips of the fabric from her tunic and binding the wound to the best of his ability. As another far off cry reached their ears, Morgana glanced anxiously at them.

"Thor, we must hurry."

"Ava," he finally spoke, "go check on Captain Rogers."

Her heart caught in her throat as the thought of his body bouncing over the land ran across her mind. With aching limbs, she pulled herself from the crater, searching fearfully for him. She found him curled in a ball not far off, his blond hair dusty and matted with dragon blood. His uniform was torn and shredded, but there seemed to be little of his own blood.

"Steve! Steve!" she shouted at him, rolling him onto his stomach.

A weak groan escaped his lips. "Wanda..." he murmured, "is she okay?"

"Y-yes..." Ava lied.

Steve didn't say anything, his lids closed tightly in pain.

"AVA!" 

Hearing Thor's booming voice, she squeezed Steve's hand affectionately and rushed back down into the crater, skidding on loose stones and dirt. She came panting up to Thor's side. Her adrenaline from the battle alone had been enough to keep her from smelling the stench of flesh and bones, but now it hit her in a wave. Thor stood over Wanda, and she nodded expectantly.

"I need you to help Steve down here if he can walk. Morgana and I will deal with the enchantments and retrieve Mjolnir. Do you understand? We must work quickly. It is likely that there will be another attack. A hoard of this size and worth will surely attract others now that its keeper is gone."

"Yes, Thor."

Morgana stood close by his side, staring down at Wanda's unmoving body. With much effort, Ava made her way back up the crater and knelt over Steve. Blood drizzled down from a cut on his head and, gingerly, she wiped it with a corner of the robe that peeked out from under her armor.

"Steve?" she murmured, trying to get his attention.

He groaned and shifted until he could look up into her face.

"How badly are you hurt?" she asked, trying not to show the worry that was creeping into her heart.

"I'm fine..." he whispered, trying to prop himself up on one elbow.

A roar echoed from somewhere nearby, and his eyes widened as he struggled harder to get to his feet. When he was standing, Ava found that he needed to lean heavily on her. With her hand on his back, she realized that his uniform was scorched through and had blistered the skin below. He winced at her touch, yet struggled to stand without it.

"What...now?" he gasped, trying to balance.

"We get you back down into the crater."


	49. Chapter 49

Morgana was finally forced to tear her eyes away from Wanda’s still form as she and Thor began digging through the dragon’s horde of treasures and charred bones. The mound they had chosen to search first was the largest and the one upon which the serpent had lain. Now, its broken and bleeding form sprawled across the rough, uneven surface of the crater, its head lolling only two yards from where Morgana currently stood. As she knelt, the beast’s deadly fangs loomed ominously behind her, its large, slitted eyes glistening in the sun like glass. But there was no life in them. 

The morning was growing late, but fortunately, it was not long before they discovered the hammer. A metallic gleam peaked through the black ash, and Morgana breathed a sigh of relief as she hurried to unearth the rest of the weapon.

“Thor, I’ve found it!” she called triumphantly.

It was located at the base of the mound, at its central point. Thor came quickly to her side, watching with bated breath as she stood and prepared to remove the enchantment. Closing her eyes, Morgana motioned with her hands and began speaking in an ancient Asgardian tongue. Her staff had been secured against her back by a long leather strap, leaving her long, slender fingers free to work their magic. 

Ava had returned with Steve, and they looked on silently, transfixed by these powerful words that they did not understand. Slowly, green light began to materialize around Mjolnir in a shimmering silhouette. It grew steadily brighter, spreading and enveloping the hammer in its radiance. Then, it drew back, flickering as its energy disintegrated. When Morgana’s voice fell silent, what was left of the spell disseminated in a shower of sparks. 

She turned to Thor, her burden growing lighter. “Now, reclaim your hammer, Son of Odin.” 

Rewarding her with a slight nod, he stepped forward, allowing himself a small smile as his muscular arm reached downward. His fingers closed around the engraved handle, tightening, and then he raised it high above his head. Forks of lightening flashed against a graying sky, blinding the onlookers with their brilliance. The ground trembled beneath their feet as thunder crashed all around them, and Morgana shielded her face with her hand, squinting. 

When the storm finally died down, she sighed wearily. “Well, that will have attracted a host of unwanted attention.”

Turning, Thor eyed her with a smirk, his red cape billowing behind him. “And that is why you will summon the portal now. It is time to return to Asgard.”

**********

When they entered the palace, it was eerily quiet. The halls were empty and silent save their echoing footsteps. Thor was carrying Wanda’s unconscious form in his arms, and Steve leaned heavily upon Ava. Morgana walked ahead of them, her keen eyes searching their surroundings with increasing suspicion. Thor’s brow was deeply furrowed, and he scowled darkly.

“Where is everybody?” asked Ava uneasily. 

Suddenly, there was a great jingling and clanging as a company of soldiers rounded the corner, weapons drawn. Morgana turned to and fro as they encircled them, swords and spears aimed at their throats. 

“What’s going on here?” she demanded.

They said nothing, waiting, but the strained silence was short-lived. Boots clicked against the golden tiles, and the men made way for their king. Proudly, Loki emerged, his green cloak trailing behind him. 

“What is the meaning of this?” Morgana questioned again, a sense of foreboding settling uncomfortably in her gut. 

“I see that your mission was successful,” he evaded with a smile, his gaze resting briefly upon Mjolnir, “though not without casualties.”

His piercing eyes roved over each of them in turn before settling upon Morgana. 

“Where are the others?” she inquired once more, her voice lowering and sharpening to a deadly point. “I will not ask again.”

“They are otherwise occupied,” Loki answered casually, implying that their well-being was beyond his realm of concern. “Why? What is your hurry?”

Anger smoldered inside her. “Do you think me a fool? Never in our lifetime have these halls been so empty and void of life.”

“Loki,” Thor growled dangerously, “what have you done?”

Jaw clenching, the Trickster raised his chin with increasing arrogance. “What needed to be done. I am not blind, Thor. Do you think it escaped me that you would plot to overthrow me?” Grinning, he laughed wickedly. “Allowing you to reclaim Mjolnir was an unfortunate necessity, if only to keep you away from the palace for a short while. Now, your friends are crippled and in shackles. Let us see if you can stand alone against the full might of Asgard and Loki its king!”

“He is not alone.”

Dismayed, Loki turned, his smile fading. “You are making a mistake, Morgana. See all that I have done for you!” He spread his arms wide, a mad gleam in his eye, and her lips parted in disgust. 

“You snake!” she cried. “Valhalla curse me for loving a devil such as you!”

“Do you truly believe that they will ever accept you after the atrocities you have committed? I knew of them always but did not condemn you because I understood. We are the same, you and I.” 

“No, not anymore!” she responded adamantly. “You have surrendered yourself to evil without repentance. No longer will I offer you hope where there is none, for you have locked away the man to whom I have given my heart.”

Smack! Morgana hit the floor with a dull thud, the imprint of his hand still burning upon her cheek. A cry of rage escaped Ava’s lips as she flung one of her daggers with all her might. Caught by surprise, Loki turned away from it, but not quickly enough. It grazed his cheek as it flew by, clattering a second later against the far wall. There was a moment of dreadful silence as he wheeled on her, blood dripping down the side of his face. 

He was not given the chance to retaliate, however, for lightning sprang from Mjolnir, sending him careening backwards into the wall. He landed with a crash, and the soldiers sprang forward. No sooner had they made to arrest them than a deep rumbling began outside the palace. It continued to grow, louder and louder until it was a tremendous roar, the sound of many voices calling them to war. Loki stumbled to his feet, his eyes wide. 

“No,” he murmured. “It is not yet time. It is too soon…too soon.”

“The Dark Gods have come,” said Thor, his features more grim than ever. “I must survey their forces before we meet them in battle.”

“Battle?” Ava exclaimed in disbelief. “Thor, look at us! We’re in no shape to—“

“We are without choice,” he interrupted firmly, delivering Wanda into Steve’s arms. “Take her to the Healers. There you will find treatment as well.”

Steve did as he commanded without question, though he had every intention of making a swift return. Morgana was back on her feet but breathing heavily, the weight of everything descending upon her. Loki was barking at the soldiers to gather their brethren, and Thor was speaking solemnly to Ava, his hand on her shoulder. In her moment of invisibility, Morgana saw opportunity. Far below them, deep beneath the ground, Matt was bound in chains, and she was going to find him.


	50. Chapter 50

Ava stood solemnly in front of Thor, trying not to let him see how afraid she was. For Steve and Wanda, for her friends imprisoned, for what was to come.

"Ava, are you listening?"

"Yes!" she lied, bringing her eyes back up to him.

His blond hair was matted and dirty, tied back from his face. With a stern gaze, he placed his hand on her shoulder. "Ava..."

"Yes?"

"I know you were scared. I know you still are. I saw fear and hesitation in your eyes from the moment I met you. This is not your realm...your battle...but don't lose hope."

With a weak smile, she nodded, and he released her shoulder. "Thank you. For...for that. And for...for defending me and Morgana against Loki."

Thor placed a gentle hand on her cheek. "Go. Replace your damaged armor. Then follow my directions."

She nodded hesitantly, and he rolled his eyes.

"Scouting for anyone who may still be of aide in the palace," he repeated exasperatedly.

"Right!"

She took off down the corridor, dodging Loki's men, though they now took no heed of her. Remembering the way to the armory, she found herself there in only a couple of minutes. After a thorough check, she found that her armor was very much still intact. Instead, she replaced her daggers and strapped a new collapsible spear onto her back. Two holsters now hung at her side, where she slid new sharp, curved knives.

She took a deep breath and stumbled slightly, placing a hand against the wall. Steeling herself, she ran from the room, listening to her own loud heartbeat as it reverberated through her ears. Was this her last day? Surely she couldn't survive this battle? Would she ever see Bucky again, or tell him she loved him? 

Trying to push these thoughts from her mind, she continued on, almost oblivious to her surroundings. Coming to a halt, she found herself at the gate to the gardens. With a quick glance, she realized that she was quite alone. Rapidly, she pushed open the gate and ran inside, hoping to find anyone left. Anyone who could help.

Suddenly, she saw stars, brilliant and spinning before her eyes. The taste of dirt filled her mouth, and Ava struggled to understand what was going on. Weakly lifting her head, she saw through blurry vision a figure standing over her, only a few feet from where she lay.

"Who-?"

Her voice died in her throat as she felt a piercing blade stab her shoulder, a scream erupting from her lips. Her senses rushing back in a heap, and she stumbled to her feet, removing a dagger and staring at the figure. All light seemed to have dimmed from the gardens, and an eerie, pale light seemed exude from around him. There weren't many visible features besides his eyes. He seemed to be an endless mass of muck and mud, flowing and swirling together. His arms were stretched out and his lips parted.

"I am Slototh, Dark God, and I cannot allow you to live."

As his hands stretched out towards her, she felt a sudden dizzying sensation that struck from the pit of her stomach and up through her head. She stumbled forward, trying to keep her focus. With her wavering consciousness, she removed from the back of her outer protection a container filled with gas. She opened the valve and allowed it to fill the air, driving him back.  
With dark spots in her eyes, Ava collapsed, falling against the concrete.

**********

Her own coughing forced her awake as saliva and vomit ran down her chin. A palace guard knelt over her, and she could see nothing but his long brown hair and green eyes that stared back at her. Head lolling from side to side, Ava struggled to make sense of where she was.

"If you have any consciousness, please stand," his deep voice spoke. 

Reaching out a hand, she allowed him to pull her to her feet, vomiting again on the beautiful Asgardian tile.

"It's amazing that you're alive. But you won't be for long if you can't fight." 

"I'm f-fine," she stuttered, leaning heavily against him.

"One of my men pulled you from the gardens right as you released your smoke. Many men died because of Slototh. You did little to harm him--more harm to yourself."

"He would have killed me anyway..."

"You only bought yourself a little time," he mumbled pessimistically. "And killed the gardens," he sulked.

As Ava felt her strength returning, she pulled away from the unknown man and glanced into his face. "So, the battle. Thor. We have to-"

"You'll find it mostly rages on the exterior of the palace."

Hesitantly, she glanced around. "Wh-where are we?"

"Deep inside. Down below."

"B-but..."

"The only place I could bring you, where you might not die."

Glancing into his face, Ava suddenly realized that this man had taken pity on her.

"Do you wish to return?" he asked.

"I have to find my friends."

"Then come."

She followed him quickly to the edge of the room, where he undid a great padlock. As they left, a rotten stench filled her nose, and Ava gagged, struggling to stand. The man slid his arm around her waist despite the disgusting condition of her appearance and helped her along.

"It has not been long since you fell unconscious. Your friends will likely still be alive for a short time more."

"Let's check...the...the dungeons."

He helped her limp along and, as they neared the main corridor, Ava realized where the stench arose from. A few bodies littered the floor, rotting flesh and guts creating a putrid smell that filtered throughout the palace. 

"Wha-?"

"You do not want to know." He shook his head.

Ava shuddered, holding on to his muscular frame with all her strength as he helped her along. Blood trickled from the back of her head, pooling in the open wound in her shoulder. Her eyes were focused anywhere but the floor, looking desperately for any signs of an oncoming struggle. Only distant cries and yells met her ears, and Ava wondered why they had yet to come upon anything.

"Likely, this hall is deserted because all were believed to be dead here," he said, answering her silent question.

The door leading down into the dungeons had been torn off its hinges, and Ava was forced to let go of the man as she descended the stairs.

"Be careful..." he whispered cautiously, his fingers gripping her shoulder.

Her lip trembled, her whole body weak. His hand slid around her arm, providing support as she stepped onto the solid floor.

"Hey...where-?" She felt her nausea rising again in her stomach. 

Asgardians littered the floor, and Ava advanced, staring at the many empty cells. Her friends were nowhere in sight. She froze, grasping the stranger's hand out of fear as a deep. low growl met her ears. Neither of them moved or spoke as a large gray wolf emerged from the shadows. Its fur was matted, and blood dripped from its open mouth. Ears perked and hair standing on end, it advanced slowly, snarling.

Ava stood in stiff fear, her hand slowly reaching for her dagger when her companion suddenly shoved her behind himself, raising his spear and pointing it at the beast's face. With one hand on his shoulder, she stood beside him, dagger in hand.

"Don't move," he whispered to her. "He could kill you with one stroke."

"Surely-"

"No. Just stay back."

Suddenly, the beast pounced, claws tearing into the soldier's skin. His spear was of no use, pinned between his body and the wolf's. Ava quickly jumped into action, rushing to its side and plunging her dagger into its fur. With a whip of its head, it turned upon her, snarling and releasing its prey. She tripped over a fallen body, landing roughly on her back. To her right, she grasped for a weapon, anything that could shield her.

Feeling nothing, she waited for the deadly strike. Instead, the body thumped lifelessly against her own. Opening her eyes with a gasp, Ava struggled to push the wolf off of herself.

"Are you okay?"

The beast was lifted off, and she stared up at Steve, wide-eyed.

"Are you okay?" he repeated more insistently.

She watched as he tossed it effortlessly over his shoulder.

"Ch-check...on him..." She pointed weakly over to her comrade. 

Steve's face paled as he gazed where she pointed, and he said nothing.

"Come on, Ava," he muttered, helping her to her feet.

"But-"

He forcibly turned her towards the stairs and helped her up, both running.

"He's dead."


	51. Chapter 51

With the guards having abandoned their posts to meet the dark forces that awaited them, the way to the dungeon was left open. Morgana flew down the endless stairs, her cheek still tingling where Loki’s hand had struck her. She still could not believe that he had done it, what he had sworn to never do. After what Freyr her husband had resorted to her the night he had died, Loki had been her refuge, a place of safety far removed from that sort of cruelty. But no longer. 

Breathless, Morgana descended the last steps and entered the lowest level of the dungeons. She stood in a long, narrow chamber lined with cells, all of which were occupied. The difference was that most of the prisoners were no longer criminals. Instead, they were insurgents who had opposed Loki’s tyrannical rule. There was Heimdall, the All-Seer, in a cell alone. Another held Lady Sif and the Warriors Three, who eyed her with bitter loathing as she passed.

A deep rumbling could be heard all around them, as if it was coming from across a great distance, and Morgana thought she could discern the roar of a thousand voices, voices that demanded the spilling of Asgardian blood. She had to move quickly. The ceiling shook, and clouds of dust fell all around her as she continued down the row. At last, she found who she was looking for. Sam, Scott, and Clint had all been thrown into a cell together, and they sprang to their feet when they saw her, rushing towards the barrier that stood between them. 

“Morgana!” Lang cried. “You’ve gotta let us out of here!”

“Loki’s a no-good scumbag!” added Wilson angrily. “He came for us as soon as you left!”

Barton lingered behind them, his eyes alight with newfound hope, but he remained cautious, uncertain of where her loyalties truly lay. She approached them anxiously, her gaze searching the empty space behind them. 

“Have you seen Matt?” she inquired, heart pounding. “Do you know where he is?”

She was starting to fear the worst, but Sam canted his head towards the far end of the corridor. “Down there,” he muttered. “He was in pretty rough shape when the guards brought him in.”

Breathing a sigh of relief, Morgana nodded. “I’m going to get you out of here. The forces of the Dark Gods are here. We must stand and fight.”

Before they could utter a single word in reply, she had turned away and was moving with great haste towards the last cell, where she could now see a solitary form slouching in the corner. One wrist was chained above its bowed head, and both ankles were fastened to the floor. Breaths quickening, Morgana deactivated the energy barrier and crossed into the white cubicle, her stomach turning. 

“Matt,” she said quietly, hurrying to him and dropping to her knees. “Matt, can you hear me?”

Slowly, as if questioning the authenticity of her voice, he raised his head. “Morgana?” 

“Matt, I’m so sorry,” she choked, seeing the dried blood on his temple and the black bruise under his right eye. “I’m so sorry for everything. This is all my fault.”

He said nothing, his brow furrowing as she reached up and grasped the chain attached to his wrist. Heat began to emanate from her hand, becoming so hot that the iron glowed red. 

“Pull now!” she ordered, and he brought his left arm forward with as much force as he could manage.

The chain broke with a sharp clang, and he slumped forward as she did the same with the bonds at his ankles. 

“What happened to you?” asked Morgana, a dangerous edge creeping into her voice. She already knew the answer.

“When the guards came, I tried to…” he grimaced, holding his ribs, “I tried to fight them, but there were too many. And Loki…he saw to it that I was dealt with….more harshly than the others.” Despite his pain, a wry grin twisted the corners of Matt's lips. “But I did some damage,” he added smugly. 

Anger boiled inside her as she considered what Loki had done, and Matt listened intently to the chaos now raging above them. “What’s going on up there?” he asked.

“Zelia is here, the one who took away my memories, along with her army,” answered Morgana, a defiant gleam in her eyes. “I have to stop her and end this. No longer will I allow anyone else to suffer for my mistakes.” 

Standing, she left the cell and activated a panel on the wall, a panel that shut down every single barrier and freed every prisoner, good or evil. As triumphant shouts and a stampede of footsteps rushed towards the stairs at the opposite end of the corridor, some were trampled and left in the wake of the mob. Struggling to his feet, Matt came to her side, his features imploring. 

“Morgana.” His voice was trembling ever so slightly, and she turned to face him, concerned. “Last time you faced this…Zelia, you almost died.”

“My powers were only a fraction then of what they are now,” she replied steadily. “I was unprepared. I know that I can meet her in battle and match her.”

She spoke more confidently than she felt. Zelia was a formidable opponent, and defeating her would be no simple task. 

“Morgana…” moving closer, Matt took her hand in his, and she caught her breath, “I can’t lose you again.”

She wanted to reassure him, wanted to promise him that she would return, but she could not bring herself to do so. A lump formed in her throat, and she found that she could hardly speak. “Will you…will you remember me when this is all over?” Tears blurred her vision. “I would understand if you wanted to forget.” 

Shaking his head, he placed his hand on her cheek and leaned in close. “I don’t want to forget. I was a fool to say what I did. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“If we…if we both make it through this…we can be together,” said Morgana, daring to hope. “I think I’ve seen enough of Asgard for ten lifetimes.”

He blinked, stunned but relieved. “Are you sure? I can’t give you a palace or-or a kingdom…”

“You are all that I need,” she interrupted softly. Matt swallowed heavily, and she gave him a sad smile. “Promise me that you will not follow me. The Dark Gods wield powers both great and terrible. They would destroy you.”

It was clear that there was an internal struggle raging inside him, but he nodded and lowered his head. The moment of parting was upon them, but neither of them could bring themselves to do it. Morgana savored the warmth of his hand against her cheek, its gentle strength as opposed to the harsh blow Loki had dealt her. Their foreheads touched as they leaned into each other, closing their eyes. 

“Come back to me,” he said quietly, and then, after a moment, they drew apart. 

Her fingers slid from his grasp as she turned without another word and headed for the stairs. Hesitating, she paused and looked back at him one last time, his dark disheveled hair, square jaw, and brown eyes—eyes that were kind, but behind them burned an unquenchable flame of stubborn courage and the will to do what was right. He was beautiful—perfect—at least to her, and Morgana kept the memory of his face, his touch, his words, in her mind as she went to her last battle, the final struggle to put her past behind her once and for all.


	52. Chapter 52

Steve could hear the ragged sound of her breathing as they made their way up the steps. The grunts as she sought to ignore her pain.

"You okay?" he asked, running slightly in front of her.

"Yes," she nodded solemnly. "But are you okay? And Wanda?"

"She's going to be fine. Come on."

His fingers slid between hers, and as she felt his hand squeeze her own, some of her strength returned.

"Wait. Stop, Steve."

He slowed, turning, both hidden in a dark recess of the hall.

"What is it?" he asked calmly, turning to face her.

"Steve...we can't do this."

His brow furrowed, and he moved closer, pushing her bloody hair off of her forehead. "Of course we can."

"No...we can't. I can't."

"What are you talking about?"

"I can't--I don't have powers. I'm not an Asgardian. I tried to help! Honestly, I did... I didn't do any good. I'll just get killed...or end up hurting someone I care about."

The sounds of dying screeches were louder now, obviously closer. Clangs of metal and rapid footsteps could be heard all about them. Steve held her closely in that dark corner, shielding them from enemy eyes. Tears were pooling in her eyes, which she hastily sought to wipe away. 

"Ava? We have to. Do you think we can abandon Thor now? When he needs us?"

"But I can't help!" she tried to convey. "And Steve, I'm-I'm sc-"

"Me too," he cut her off, gently pulling her into a hug.

She curled against his uniform, trying not to cry.

"Ava, will you stay with me? And we can do this together?" he asked gently, pulling away.

She smiled slightly. "Thanks."

He turned, gazing both ways down the corridor.

"Where do we go?" she whispered.

He clutched her hand tightly and pulled her along behind him down the hall, towards the edges of the palace. Her heart was pounding in her chest, fear overpowering her other senses. Every natural instinct she had ever had was telling her to pull away from Steve, to run the other way. To forget this. But she couldn't. 

Suddenly, Steve backed into her frantically. She tripped, sprawling on the floor. Three men advanced on them, smirking. They were tall, taller than any humans she'd encountered before. All three were bald and had bulging muscles, small, slitted eyes glaring at them. Frantically, she tried to scramble to her feet--weaponless.

"Well, well. A hero--quite festive," one laughed.

That was all that was spoken. Two threw themselves on Steve, and the other rushed at her, blade extended. With nothing else to do, she gasped, dodging the jab. Instinct began to sink in, and as she avoided another strike, she sent her foot against his ankle, causing him to fall. Flipping forward, she drove another blow into his knee right as he sliced at her abdomen. With a cry of pain, she fell againat him, screaming through her teeth as she plunged her fingers into his neck. She had his sword arm pinned beneath her, but with his other hand, he reached up, clawing at her face. His eyes were bulging, face blue as he gasped for air, and she cried out as his long, pointed fingernails tore at her skin.

The lack of air won out, however, and his head lolled back. As his hand thudded to the tile, she gazed up, ignoring the blood in her eyes, to see Steve body slam another against the wall, his form crumpling. He whipped about naturally, throwing his shield at her. With a yelp, she flattened herself against the tile, covering her head. The cry of pain that arose behind her, however, revealed the victim.

The third attacker had been thrown off balance by his shield, and as his sword skittered across the floor, Steve rushed forward, retrieving both. The two men now stood opposite one another, Steve's chest heaving, sword in one hand, shield in the other. The man stood there, eyes wide, nowhere to run.

Ava slowly, without taking her eyes off of him, moved to reach the sword beneath her. The sticky feeling of her own blood was disgusting as she touched the slippery grip. Jumping to her feet, she thrust the blade forward, catching the man's arm. The limb thudded to the floor, and Ava gagged as the man screamed, falling to his knees. Steve thrust his shield upon his head, and the man crumpled, unconscious. 

Grabbing her under the arm, Steve lifted Ava back to her feet. 

"You okay?"

"Fine," she grunted.

He cradled her face in both hands, wiping the blood away.

"Let's go..." she murmured, pulling away and leaning forward to grab his shield.

Handing it back to him, she took a sword in her own.


	53. Chapter 53

Morgana blasted and sliced her way through hordes of enemies, swiftly losing count of those she had slain as the familiar rush of battle and adrenaline overcame her. It was just like before. All of this was familiar to her—the blood, the stench of burning flesh, the horrors of war. But one thing was different: she took no pleasure in it. 

Enemy forces had breached the palace walls and were swarming in mass, in numbers that Morgana guessed even Loki had not anticipated. Asgardian cruisers zipped past the open windows, raining down laserfire upon the legions of exiles, criminals, and sorcerers that Zelia had brought under her command. There was bound to be friendly fire, but the stakes were too high to risk not bringing in the heavy artillery. Morgana was growing impatient, however, for the average thugs only succeeded in slowing her down. She had no time for them—her target was Zelia. Anyone else was simply an obstacle in her path. 

As she rounded a corner, Morgana skidded to a halt just in time, for a large, winged creature burst through one of the windows. Debris crumbled and fell as the monster slid across the floor, his opponent still grasped tightly between his clawed hands. Anger flared inside her. It was Sam Wilson, and Tokkots was going to kill him. The Falcon’s metallic wings had been crushed and rendered useless by the impact, and his head was lolling. Extending her staff, Morgana stunned the monster with a powerful blast of energy, and he released his victim. Wilson hit the floor and did not move. 

Tokkots roared defiantly in response before self-duplicating until ghosts of him completely surrounded her. Her eyes glanced warily from left to right, but before the fight even began, a giant, gloved hand suddenly reached through the gaping hole in the wall and snatched the creature by his ankle. Tokkots shrieked and squirmed as he was dragged away, his claws digging into the floor, but there was nothing he could do. Once he was out in the open, a second hand appeared, tearing the wings from his back, and the monster was tossed aside like a rag doll. Morgana heard his final cries as he plummeted to his death, but her awe-stricken gaze was fixed upon Scott Lang, who had grown to a size larger than she had ever seen any mortal achieve. Stunned, she nodded her thanks, and he gave her a thumbs up. 

Turning, she saw that the duplicates had vanished and Sam was stirring—he was alive. Relieved to see that he was not in critical condition, Morgana moved on. Striding quickly through the corridors, her heart pounded inside her chest. To her right was large opening lined with towering columns that stretched the length of the hall. Hearing the crashing of thunder and seeing lightning fork through the afternoon sky, Morgana hurried to the edge and peered down into the courtyard below. Storm clouds were gathering and swirling overhead as Thor brought his hammer down upon the heads of those foolish enough to challenge him. Bodies were flung into the air, flailing helplessly, and the Asgardian stones swelled where Mjolnir had struck the ground. Like a wave that had risen from the foundations of the earth, they rippled outwards, burying the unfortunate souls that stood in their path. 

The palace trembled, and Morgana braced herself against the nearest column. Then she gasped, suddenly feeling something cold and sharp pierce her back. Her hand slid down the pillar and fell uselessly at her side. A thought crossed her mind that she was going to fall, but a hand caught her shoulder, pulling her back against the chest of her assassin. A soft, snake-like voice hissed in her ear. 

“Unfortunate, that it has come to this. I was always fond of you, until you betrayed us, of course.”

D’Chel. Morgana could not reply—she was choking on her own blood. Her staff had fallen from her hand and tumbled down into the courtyard below. Her vision was pulsing strangely at its edges and fading in and out. She did not hear the rest of what he said to her—she did not care. All she could think of, all she could see, was Matt. She had failed him. 

Vaguely, Morgana became aware of a sudden shift behind her. D’Chel was no longer holding her up, and she collapsed. But she did not hit the floor, as she had been expecting. Instead, a pair of strong arms caught her and lowered her gently to the ground. The blade was removed from her back, and she cried out in pain. When she realized that it was Loki who was leaning over her, her eyes widened. 

“You!” snarled D’Chel, climbing back to his feet. “You have interfered in our affairs for the last time, Laufeyson!” 

Loki raised his head, rage flickering in his eyes like a silent blue flame. He stood slowly and without a word, his back turned to his enemy. He backed two steps away from her and then became still, his fists clenched at his sides. It was then that D’Chel made the move that would kill him. He vanished, reappearing behind Loki a moment later without warning. He was prepared to deliver a fatal blow, but when his stroke fell, his arm went straight through Loki’s unmoving form. There was a brief moment, a single instant, where the sorcerer realized his mistake. His glowing red eyes widened, his lips parting. Then the blade of Loki’s dagger slid across his throat, and he gurgled. 

“You should have known by now,” the Trickster hissed in his ear, “I never make the same mistake twice.” 

Casting him mercilessly aside, Loki sheathed his weapon and hurried back to Morgana’s side. As he knelt, she shifted her rapidly faltering gaze to his face. Blood was trickling from her lips and down the side of her face, and she saw the genuine concern in his eyes. He dared not waste another moment, and green energy shimmered around his hands as he placed them on her abdomen. Morgana made no response, for she no longer felt any pain. She knew that was a bad thing. 

Closing her eyes, she prepared to accept the fate that had befallen her. It was only fitting, she supposed, that she had met her end at the hands of a traitor—by a dagger in the back. After all, that was exactly what she had done to so many others, including her own husband.

Morgana did not know how long she lay there, whether it was one minute or a thousand. She became aware of a strange tingling sensation forming near her stomach and spreading throughout her entire body. It was as if her organs were being repaired from the inside, and her consciousness was returning. She heard Loki speaking an incantation over and over again, and though the pain was intensifying, Morgana realized now that he was healing her.

Finally, the green energy emanating from Loki’s hands faded away, and most of her pain subsided. She opened her eyes, blinking slowly as her breaths started to come more easily again. He let out a sigh of relief, and Morgana looked up at him as tears pooled in her eyes. 

“Frigga said there was good in you, but I doubted,” she murmured. “I was wrong, and for that I am glad.”

He paused a moment before meeting her gaze. “I am not good, Morgana,” he responded gravely. “I am selfish, too selfish to let you go.” 

Leaning over her, Loki gently wiped the blood from her face with his thumb. “Forgive me,” he whispered. 

“I forgive you,” she replied softly. Pushing herself up onto her elbows, Morgana planted a kiss on his cheek before drawing back to look him in the eye. “I’m going to find Zelia,” she said quietly, “and I’m going to finish this.” 

“Not alone,” he objected. 

“I will not risk—”

“Do you think Zelia will be alone?” Loki interrupted, calmly but firmly. “No…Perrikus will be with her, and together, they would certainly defeat you.” 

She pressed her lips tightly together, saying nothing. He was right. 

“I’m going with you,” he said, leaving no room for objections. 

“All right,” she relented finally, grimacing as a sharp pain suddenly stabbed her gut. “Help me up, would you?”

While Loki pulled her to her feet, there came the sound of a cape flapping in the wind, and a pair of boots thudded onto the ground nearby. Turning in surprise, Morgana saw Thor standing there, Mjolnir in one hand and her staff in the other. 

“I thought you might need this,” he remarked with the slightest of smiles, holding it out to her. 

She accepted it gratefully, nodding her thanks. 

“We need you to create a distraction, Brother,” said Loki. “Do you think you can manage that?”

“I can do far more than that,” Thor answered in a low voice, his grip on the hammer tightening. “When do you require it?”

“Now,” replied Morgana. “We need you to keep the bulk of their forces occupied while we seek out Majeston Zelia.”

“As you wish,” he nodded curtly. Turning he began spinning Mjolnir faster and faster at his side. Then, he shot into the sky as if he had been fired from a cannon, and Morgana took a deep, steadying breath. It was time.


	54. Chapter 54

Ava let out a shriek as a dagger caught her in the shoulder. Whirling on the enemy and yanking the dagger from her flesh, she heartlessly slit his throat. The thug fell, and Ava grimaced.

Long ago, she'd lost Steve amongst the chaos and blood. Turning back, she picked up a fallen man's spear, holding it tightly in her hand, a smaller knife in the other. Blood coated her entire body now, as it did many others'. The sky was darkened with smoke and smog, making breathing more difficult. Every direction was filled with enemies and friends alike, all locked in combat. Creatures flew through the air, the likes of which she had never seen before.

Some time previously, she'd seen Scott, but he'd been locked in battle with some hideous monster. No other friends had made an appearance.

Ava ran through the dense streets, down from the palace now, trying her best to avoid further injury. Suddenly, a hand reached out and grabbed her wrist. She shrieked, plunging the knife in the intruder's hand. His cry shocked her as she realized that it was Clint.

"Cl-Clint! I-I-"

He was groaning through his teeth as he stared at the knife. With increasing hesitation, he dislodged it, letting it clang to the ground. 

Ava glanced behind her carefully before making the quick decision to take off her armor. The metal hit the streets with a clang, and she felt naked without its protection, standing in front of him in shorts and a t-shirt. Even these were drenched with blood. Her own.

"What are you doing?" he hissed, clamping a hand over the wound, eyes wide at her idiocy.

Picking up the bloody knife from the ground, she cut the bottom hem of her t-shirt into long strips.

"AVA!"

She whipped about in surprise and saw a man with a cruel smile running at her. With little time to think, she threw her knife at his chest. It lodged itself in his stomach, but it appeared that the armor had prevented any injury. His feet slowed as he stared at it, laughing.

"Wow...helpful," he murmured before dislodging it and throwing it back in her direction.

Ava tried to move, but the knife caught her in the thigh. Clint, meanwhile, had picked up her spear, and as the man moved purposefully towards Ava, he thrust it into the man's side. Ava watched as the tip slid all the way through his being and to the other side. A look of shock spread across his face as he collapsed to the ground.

Clint moved towards her, taking her and pushing her back against the wall as a hoard of enemies and creatures rushed past. She was struggling to breathe, head pressed into his shoulder, his arm around her as she prayed with every fiber of her being that they wouldn't notice them.

They passed quickly, unaware of their presence.

She breathed a sigh of relief against him and pulled away, staring fearfully into his eyes. He didn't say anything but nodded down to the knife in her thigh. The pain was excruciating, but she didn't respond. Instead, she unclenched her fist, where the strips of fabric lay, and bound his hand tightly, trying to stop his bleeding.

"Okay. Now you sit."

She nodded reluctantly and leaned against the wall. Clint knelt, rolling up the edge of her shorts so he could effectively pull out the same knife that had injured him only a moment ago. As he pulled it from her flesh, she whimpered with her eyes shut tight.

"It's out. And it wasn't that deep."

He reached out, grabbing her clothes and pulling them in closer. He helped her to slide back into the pants, then reattached the rest. With his help, she stood, swaying slightly.

"Okay...does it hurt?"

"No," she lied, "I'm fine. I'm sorry I stabbed you."

He smirked. "It's okay."

Suddenly, a screech met her ears, and she turned, wide-eyed, to see three people who were obviously not Asgardian moving their way, dragging a man between them. He was covered in blood, flesh ripped and scraping along the ground. His eyes had been gouged out, and he struggled to do anything but scream.

Clint didn't hesitate even a moment. He rushed out, pulling a dagger from his belt and plunging it through one man's armor. He collapsed, and the other two rounded on Clint. Ava rushed to his aide, throwing a punch at the second man's face, and he stumbled back, hands over his nose. She grabbed his arm, yanking it out of socket, and kicked him in the groin. He fell to his knees when she sent her elbow into the back of his head.

Blood trickled from his nose as he lay facedown on the street. Clint had left a knife in the third man's shoulder but, weaponless, he had taken off. Ava rushed to the injured man's side.  
He lay moaning and shivering, barely even living.

"Leave him, Ava. He'll be dead within a few minutes."

"Clint, I-I can't. Don't you see him?!"

She knelt over him, trying to think of something to do.

"Fine. I'll-I'll keep watch," Clint muttered reluctantly.

His body was so beaten that she couldn't tell the difference between his flesh and his clothes, or even if he was wearing any.

"Can you hear me, sir?"

"There's something coming."

"Take care of it, Clint!"

"Sir?" she tried again.

"Water..." he choked out.

"I-I don't have any."

"Please," he croaked.

She glanced up to the sparsely spread residences. "Clint, I have to get him-"

"There's nothing you can do for that man," Clint muttered as he watched the corner carefully.

"Well, then I'm gonna take him to a safer place... Maybe when this is over-"

"Just hurry," Clint responded.

As carefully as she could, Ava dragged the fallen man onto the doorstep of a house. Without knocking, she burst through the door, dragging him over the slats. The place seemed completely abandoned anyway, so that's where she left him, rejoining Clint in the streets.

"Come on," he murmured, helping her to walk, "I saw Thor. Let's go."


	55. Chapter 55

Lightning continued to flash, and thunder rolled, but not a single drop of rain fell. The sun was beginning its descent, and its burning rays pierced the wall of black clouds. It hung large and red above the sea, whose waves crashed to and fro. Morgana and Loki had not moved. They remained in the same golden arcade, lined with pillars and grand arches on its western side. D’Chel’s lifeless form lay several yards behind them, exactly where it had fallen, and Morgana did her best to avoid looking at it. 

Their plan was to wait, for though she had planned to seek out Zelia, Loki had made the point that the Majeston likely already knew their location and would come to them. Of course, allowing one of their greatest enemies inside the palace would not have gone over well with Thor, so he had left his true plan unsaid until his brother was gone. Then Morgana had remembered—of course Zelia would know. In fact, the Majeston had probably seen through D’Chel’s eyes as he had attempted to murder her and then had fallen by Loki’s hand. It was a particular ability of hers, the group mind, one that Morgana and Loki had never been willing to submit themselves to. 

As they waited, Morgana observed the chaos raging beyond the palace. Most of the enemy forces had been driven back out into the city by Thor’s relentless onslaught, and she wondered where the others were now—Matt, Ava, Steve. Though he had agreed to stay away from the Dark Gods, Morgana knew that Matt would not be able to keep himself from the fight entirely—it was against his nature. She worried for all of them, and she felt like a coward, hiding behind the palace walls while her friends were out in the streets, fighting for their lives.   
“She will come,” said Loki as he stood at her side, “very soon now. She cannot bring herself to waste such a perfect opportunity…a chance to seize Asgard. The path before her is unimpeded, and she likely believes that you are on the brink of death.” 

“That is not far from the truth,” laughed Morgana, which cause her to wince. Though Loki’s powers had healed her, she would not be left without a scar, and she was certain that her insides would ache for some time. 

His keen eyes glanced her way, glinting with amusement. “Now, is that any way to thank your rescuer? I have survived worse. You will mend well enough.” 

“Oh, is it a competition now?”

“Not at all,” he smirked, “but it is worth mentioning that I have saved your life four times now.” 

She looked at him incredulously. “What was the fourth time?”

“Isn’t it obvious? The night you were crawling away from the warehouse, of course.”

“I would classify that as an unnecessary intervention,” Morgana answered lightly, shifting her gaze back to the fiery sky. 

He gave a doubtful ‘hmph’ but said nothing more. There were no words left to say. Both of them knew where they stood in the eyes of the other. She had chosen to give her heart to another, and he was left with no choice but to accept it. Any other course of action on his part would bring her only misery, which he had no desire to cause. However, the fact that she had chosen to forgive him eased his burden somewhat. 

Though she had forced herself to push everyone away whilst going to her final confrontation with the monster who had changed her life forever, Morgana was secretly relieved that she had been unable to dissuade Loki from remaining by her side. Truthfully, she did not want to challenge Zelia alone. The prospect had terrified her, yet she knew that if she did not face the Majeston in battle and end her, she would never be free. 

Suddenly, there came the sound of a portal opening behind them, and they turned. From it emerged Zelia, hovering just above the ground as her long purple cloak trailed behind her. After her came Perrikus, tall but thickly built and armored from head to toe. In his hand was a mighty spear with a blade shaped like a scythe. Its tip glinted dangerously in the light of the setting sun, and the Majeston’s single eye narrowed as it focused upon Morgana. 

The portal closed and, for a moment, the four of them stood facing each other, silently estimating their foes’ strengths and weaknesses.

“So…you survived,” Zelia said at last, her cold voice reverberating through the hall.

“Surprised?” Morgana quipped, raising an eyebrow. Her heart was pounding. 

“No,” the Majeston replied as her cruel eye swiveled in Loki’s direction, “just disappointed.” Shifting her gaze back to Morgana, she went on. “Our little game ends here. Twice I made the mistake of allowing your escape. I gave you a chance to live a life of ignorance, but you chose to remain a perpetual thorn in my side. No longer. This ends now!”

Extending a gloved hand, Zelia fired a blast of red crackling energy directly at Morgana, who moved swiftly out of its path. It crashed into the far wall, reducing it to a pile of rubble. There would be no escape that way. The great spear Gungnir materialized in Loki’s hand as Perrikus charged at him. His horned golden helmet shimmered about his head, his green cape sweeping behind him as his weapon collided with that of his opponent. 

Morgana dodged blast after blast from the Majeston’s hands, firing projectiles of her own from the head of her staff, which Zelia easily deflected or absorbed. The entire chamber was crumbling around them, and she wondered if there would soon be any solid ground left to stand on. 

Perrikus discharged a powerful crimson beam from his spear, which Loki deflected with Gungnir and sent flying into the ceiling directly over the head of his enemy. The floor above them caved in, burying Perrikus beneath a pile of debris, and Loki shifted his attention to Zelia. While she was distracted by Morgana, he launched a blast of golden energy into her back that sent her sprawling. Enraged, the Majeston pushed herself up with both arms, emitting a terrible shriek and suddenly unleashing a wave of magic that shook the very foundations of the palace.

Loki and Morgana were both sent flying back in opposite directions with Zelia between them. The columns collapsed, and the rest of the ceiling gave way. Desperately, Morgana raised her staff, forming a shield around herself as chunks of rock and metal came raining down. When the pillars fell, they and the wall above broke off substantial areas of the floor, which fragmented and tumbled into the courtyard far below them. As dust filled the air and clouded her vision, Morgana frantically began climbing the massive pile of rubble that had formed. She could feel the ground tilting beneath her and pulling her backwards. Stone slabs slid out from under her, and jagged wedges of rock went careening past her on both sides, one flying dangerously close to her head. 

“Morgana!” a voice cried, muffled by the destruction engulfing her. 

Above her and to the left, she saw where the upper floor had broken off. Much of it and the adjacent corridor was still intact, and Loki crouched at its edge, extending his hand down to her. 

“Jump!”

Fighting to the top of the mound, Morgana struggled to her feet. Gathering herself, she prepared to make the leap. However, as her knees bent, a large, armored hand suddenly clamped around her ankle. Crying out in a mixture of pain and surprise, Morgana turned to see Perrikus lying amidst the rubble. His glowing red eyes were consumed with hatred, his ugly features set with grim determination. She stumbled and fell as what was left of the floor became almost completely vertical, and she grabbed hold of the sturdiest chunk of stone within reach. The entire mass was beginning to slide downward, and soon, it would be lying in the midst of the courtyard below. 

Perrikus was heavy, very heavy, and he was pulling her down with him. Morgana’s limbs stretched painfully, as did her recently healed insides. Gritting her teeth, she strained every muscle in her body in a desperate attempt to keep from falling to her death. Instinctively, her eyes darted up to Loki, who was now standing with Gungnir in his hands. Its triangular tip appeared to be aimed directly at her. 

“Morgana, duck!” he ordered, and she immediately buried her face against the stone. 

A golden beam of energy shot just over her left shoulder and struck Perrikus in the face. With a startled cry, he released his grip and tumbled head over heels down the slab of stone, plunging towards his inevitable doom. 

“No!”

The screech was high and terrible in Morgana’s ears as the Majeston dove to save her son, but another blast from Gungnir sent her spiraling uncontrollably through the air. Then it was too late. Staggering to her feet, Morgana made a desperate leap as Loki knelt and extended his hand down to her once again. For a moment, she feared that she would not make it, but then his fingers closed around her wrist and caught her. She dared not look down now, for there was nothing left to impede her fall. Her eyes were fixed on Loki’s as he started to pull her up. 

Then there was a flash of red light. Loki’s head snapped to to the right as he heard Zelia’s spine-chilling scream. At that instant, a massive beam of scarlet energy collided with the structure directly behind him. The floor crumbled and fell out from beneath him, and then he and Morgana were plummeting towards the ground, several stories below. Despite this, Loki maintained his grip on her wrist, and he pulled her to him. As her arms encircled his waist, he thrust his spear arm downward, and a portal opened some distance below them. It swirled and crackled as they hurtled towards it, and, a second later, they passed through it. 

Not until it was too late did they realize that another had entered behind them.


	56. Chapter 56

Clint's arm was wrapped around her waist as he helped her limp forward. His bandaged hand he kept bent at his side, unused.

"Clint, when will this end?" she sighed as he once again pulled her to the side, avoiding a screaming duo intent upon killing one another.

As they rounded the corner, her jaw fell open.

"Looks like it has..." he muttered slowly as their eyes both roved over the damage.

An entire side of the palace had crumbled away, debris filling the courtyard and spare rocks crumbling down the side and into the sea.

"Who do you think was in there?" she whispered breathlessly.

"I-I don't know..." he choked out.

Glancing above them, Ava noticed Thor, cape billowing about him, hammer outstretched. Lightning flashed all around them, people screaming and running in every direction. As a horde trampled behind them, Ava felt herself knocked to the ground, all air leaving her lungs as she face planted into the dirt. A resounding crack settled in her ears as the smell of electricity filled her nostrils. Her ears rang with a dull buzz, pain filling her head. Someone kicked her in the ear, and Ava cried out sharply, curling herself into a ball as she felt the blood trickling down her face.

When the ground had stopped shaking, slowly, she pulled herself up on all fours. Everything was spinning now, and her vision was splotching red. All of sudden, she felt a strong hand around her wrist, pulling her to her feet. A man stood in front of her, his arms wrapped around her and his voice buzzing in her ear like a bee.

"C-can't hear you," she mumbled, blood dripping down her lips.

She was lifted from her feet, and her head spun, threatening darkness. The last of her food rose in her stomach, and Ava vomited, unable to pull away from the stranger. Slowly, the buzz in her ears began to subside, and she vaguely heard a voice she recognized.

"Thor?" she mumbled, slipping open her eye.

He had her lying on solid ground now, leaning over her with his hand on the side of her face.

"Th-Thor," she spluttered, choking on blood.

He placed a hand on her back, helping her to sit. "Ava, can you hear me?"

Though his voice crackled, she could hear every word, and so she nodded weakly.

"Thank Valhalla..." He brushed a long strand of blond hair back from his forehead and pulled his hand away from her face.

With a gasp, she realized that his fingers dripped with red blood. He caught her gaze and quickly wiped the blood away.

"Ava, I must go. They retreat now. Without the dark lords, nor their leaders, they scatter like flies. Will you be all right alone?"

"Thor, wait," she coughed as he stood to go. Weakly, she pulled herself up, swaying as she stood. "Let me come."

"You are weaponless now," he tried to convince her.

"With them all retreating, it won't be hard to-" Suddenly, her voice cut off as she fell to her knees, rolling onto her stomach with a groan.

The world had turned upside down, everything shaking inside her head. Thor's hand on her back was the only thing tethering her to reality.

"I will return shortly," he promised, her vision faltering and her head lolling back as everything went dark.

********** 

When she awoke again, everything was quiet. She groaned, curling on her side and letting her eye flutter open. Darkness had spread over the city, lamps lighting the remains of the streets and palace. Ava had no idea where she was. She lay on a large, empty slab suspended above the streets.

Crawling to the edge, she looked down, expecting to see chaos. Instead, a city full of dead met her eyes. Bodies lay mangled in the streets, weak moans and cries meeting her ears. Few were walking, and those that did limped. Not a soul she recognized was visible, and Ava grew pale with fear. Who was left? Who had survived?

She sat atop a building, she now realized, about three stories above the street. Turning, she noted that the sea was to her back, the crashing waves a peaceful sound contradicting the cries of pain. Crawling backwards, she looked below to see a short drop into the water.

Struggling to stand, Ava kept herself bent over, pain forbidding much movement. With no other hope of getting down, however, Ava steeled herself and dropped into the water below. Like a gunshot, the chilled water hit her body, waking all of her senses. Kicking furiously, she surfaced, gasping for breath. Propelling herself forward, she climbed onto the bank and fell to her knees, shivering with cold. Her teeth chattered, and shaking wracked her body, but Ava struggled to her feet nonetheless.

Limping forward, she began to scan the bodies for anyone who might be living. A short groan of pain came from beneath her, and Ava lifted her foot, surprise coming over her as she saw that she had stepped on a man's hand. Kneeling beside him, she placed a hand on his chest. His armor revealed him to be Asgardian.

"S-sir?" she chattered, numb from the cold.

"My-my daughter...my daughter..." he mumbled.

"I don't..."

"Save her. Please..." His eyes would not open, nor his body move. He merely mumbled that same phrase repeatedly.

Ava scanned his body for wounds, but she found nothing, which worried her all the more. There was nothing physical she could help with.

"Please," he whispered, lips falling silent.

Her eyes widened and her breath quickened as she pressed an ear to his chest. He was already dead.

Standing upon shaky legs, Ava tottered forward, doing the same for as many she could. She became numb to death as she watched men, women, and children die. Those she could help, she did. 

Time passed endlessly, the dark night wearing on. Silence was her companion, pain her guide.

"Ava?" 

The sound of a familiar voice shocked her so much that it caused her to fall to her knees, hands pressing roughly against a man's chest. Someone rushed up behind her, placing their hands on her shoulders.

"Ava?" they repeated, close to her ear. "Are you okay?"

She turned, smiling weakly at Scott. His face showed his shock.

"You're...feezing. And bleeding--everywhere. Ava, come on..."

"No, Scott..." she murmured, resisting as he tried to pull her to her feet, "there are too many people who need help."

"Ava...I think you need help. Please."

"No!" she cried adamantly.

Using her weakness against her, he scooped her into his arms, and she had no choice but to let him, for she was too injured to do anything. 

"Ava, what happened to you?"

"Lightning...and...and people...and then the water."

"Never mind," he sighed. "You're not making much sense."

"I thought you were dead," she mumbled into his shirt.

"We thought you were. Thor went back to look for you...but you were gone."

"Is everyone okay?"

"I dunno... Right now it's only Thor, Steve, and I."

"Scott?"

"Yes?"

"Everything hurts."

He didn't say anything but shifted her in his arms. "M'kay...I'm setting you down all right?"

She moaned as her body was laid against the cold tile. Scott sat beside her, and his long fingers gently started to take off her armor. She groaned as he made her sit, pulling it over her head.

"We're gonna wait here, okay?" he explained. "Thor says not to go too far into the palace until he makes sure it's clear. And Steve's looking for you."

When she was resting in her t-shirt and shorts again, he let her curl up in his lap, ignoring all of her blood. Taking deep breaths, she tried to ignore the pain.

"They'll be back soon..." he whispered reassuringly as she drifted off to sleep.


	57. Chapter 57

Morgana knew as soon as they entered the portal that something had gone wrong. A hand clamped around her foot, and the world before her was a chaotic mass of swirling colors. Their destination was indistinguishable, and they tumbled wildly through the void. All the while, she clung desperately to Loki, her sole source of stability as they crossed the gulf of space-time. Dizziness overcame her, and she shut her eyes, all sense of her surroundings lost. 

Then, as quickly as it had begun, the motion stopped. Loki took the brunt of the impact as they collided with solid ground, and Morgana landed on top of him. Her grip was shaken loose, however, and she found herself rolling over weatherworn stone. Her sleeves and skirt were torn, her arms and face scraping painfully against the rocks. Slowly, she came to a stop, and she grimaced, clutching her aching midsection.

Her staff lay nearby, having fallen from her grasp, and behind her, Morgana heard the rustling of heavy fabric. Something was being dragged along the ground. There came a low, strangled gasp, and boots scuffed against stone. As breath steadily refilled her lungs, she managed to turn over, and the sight before her caused her insides to constrict painfully. All thoughts of her own well-being were instantly driven from her mind. 

The Majeston had risen and captured Loki in her ruthless grip. His legs dangled uselessly above the ground, her claw-like fingers clenched around his throat. Fiercely, he pried at them, but in vain. Her yellow eye glittered madly, her teeth bared, and her entire body shook with unbridled rage. 

“You will find no glory in death,” Zelia snarled viciously. “Valhalla has no room for liars, for traitors, for murderers—and you are all of them. The gates will be closed to you, and I will watch with glee as the jaws of the wolf drag the tattered remains of your soul into the depths of Hel. At last, you will be where you belong, Son of Laufey, and I will mount your head upon the spear that slew my only son!” 

Morgana wondered why he did not simply vanish from her grasp, but then she realized that there was something far deeper at work. The Majeston’s hand was glowing red—it seeped through her glove—and green energy crackled faintly over Loki’s form. It snaked up his legs, around his torso, and to his neck. Zelia was not killing him—not yet. First, she was draining him of his magic, siphoning all of his power into herself and rendering him utterly helpless. Then, and only then, would she take his life. 

Morgana looked to her right, where her staff lay nearly ten feet away. Then she looked to her left. There, just beyond her reach, was Gungnir. It gleamed in the pale silver light of the Twin Moons, which orbited the eternally dark realm of Narcisson, home of the Dark Gods. The courtyard in which they had landed belonged to a palace similar to that of Asgard’s, but it was a mirror image, a sinister vision of an alternate reality. Black spires towered against an even blacker sky, and the palace itself floated on a plateau of jagged rock above a Stygian planet. There, far below, the wretched people of that miserable place were crushed beneath the iron fist of the Majeston. 

In that moment, the full gravity of what she was about to do came crashing down upon Morgana’s shoulders. The weight of everything dragged like an anchor to the pit of her stomach. It was not just her life, those of her friends, or even the entire Asgardian race that hung in the balance. The fates of billions were at stake, an entire planet’s worth of souls that she had failed to consider, people who yearned, above all else, for freedom—just as she did.

Brow furrowing, mouth tightening, Morgana crawled forward. Her trembling fingers closed around the shining shaft of Gungnir, and she got to her feet, swaying slightly as a sharp, searing pain suddenly stabbed through her stomach. Gritting her teeth, she took one step forward, then another. She gripped the spear with white-knuckled hands, approaching Zelia from behind. It was long and heavy, requiring considerable strength and concentration on the part of its bearer in order to wield it successfully. In Morgana’s weakened state, it sank against her straining arm muscles, and she fought to keep it level. 

Loki’s urgent gaze found her, his eyes widening ever so slightly. There was a flicker of realization within them, and she gave him a tight nod. He knew what she was about to do and was prepared to respond accordingly. As she crept within range, Loki’s hands suddenly clamped around the Majeston’s wrist with renewed force. They turned a frigid blue, and there came a strange hissing sound as biting cold seeped from his fingers, through her gloves, and to her skin. At first, she resisted, maintaining her relentless hold on him, but then the pain became too great, and she finally released him. From Zelia’s lips escaped a howl of mingled frustration and sheer agony.

Morgana saw her opportunity and, raising Gungnir, she summoned what remained of her strength, hurling the great spear through the air like a javelin. Loki hit the ground, his knees buckling, and he landed hard on his back. Simultaneously, Gungnir’s glistering head plunged into the Majeston’s back and emerged on the other side. Like an arrow whose path is unimpeded, it shot through her with supernatural momentum. When it exited her hovering form, the spear abruptly altered its trajectory and returned to Morgana’s waiting hand. 

The golden light emanating from Gungnir softened and then faded away entirely, and she watched as Zelia hung there, suspended in midair, clutching at her black heart. Slowly, her yellow eye glazed over, the last of her ragged breaths escaping her lungs as she fell forward. Loki scrambled out of the way, and there was a resounding clang as her helmet struck stone. It cracked, splitting directly down the middle, and Majeston Zelia moved no more. 

Morgana dropped to her knees, crimson blood sliding down the shaft of Odin’s Spear and dripping over her quivering fingers. Tears leaked from her eyes and tumbled down her dirt-smeared cheeks. Shutting her lids tight, she embraced the prevailing silence. Was it possible that all of this was real, that it had actually happened? Was it over? Could she finally be free?   
A hand settled on her shoulder, and Morgana lifted her weary eyes to meet Loki’s. His pale orbs glistened with pride as he knelt beside her. Slowly, carefully, he reached out and removed Gungnir from her faltering grasp. Then he laid it gently aside, and his gaze met hers once more. 

Morgana no longer felt strong. Though the burden of Zelia’s unending pursuit had been removed from her, she was physically fatigued, emotionally exhausted, and spiritually spent. She had nothing left to give. She was too tired to cry, too tired to speak, too tired to move. So Morgana did the only thing she had the strength left to do, which was to slump forward against Loki’s chest. 

Wordlessly, he wrapped his arms around her and held her tight. As he did, a single tear escaped from the corner of her eye and slipped soundlessly down his breastplate. Her cheek pressed against the cool leather, Morgana gazed silently at the steady, ivory light emitted by the binary moons. Like twin jewels of purest alabaster, they continued their ascent against the infinite black expanse.


	58. Chapter 58

Ava sat in Scott's lap as Steve knelt in front of her, wrapping a blanket around her and cleaning the blood off of her face as thoroughly as he could. She had her head resting against Scott's shoulder, exhaustion numbing her senses.

"I'm just glad you're all right," he murmured, brushing a strand of bloody hair back from her face.

Though shivering desperately, she took his fingers within her own and smiled at him. He sighed, meeting her gaze.

"There were just so many...and I thought--I thought you were one of them."

"Everyone's okay, Steve," Scott reassured him.

Leaning back on his heels, Steve rubbed the back of his neck anxiously. "Well, I haven't seen... I don't know about..."

She released his fingers, wincing as she sat forward. "Who?"

"Ava, they could be fine-"

"Who?"

"Morgana. And Loki."

Her face paled, and she leaned back into Scott's chest, his arm wrapped around her. "What about Matt?"

"He's...he's looking for her. He's fine. Mostly."

"We have to help him," she murmured, struggling to her feet.

Scott held her back, and she winced as he pulled on her shoulder.

"I got stabbed there..." she murmured, indicating her shoulder.

Steve came around to where Scott sat, and he tore the fabric away from the wound. "Ava, please lie back down. As soon as I fix you up, we're going to do everything we can."

"But what if they're dead, Steve? Or dying?"

Her bluntness caught him off guard, and he seemed to be at a loss for words.

"Is anyone doing anything at all?"

"Sam and Thor are helping Matt. But there are others here who need help. Wanda... She...she was hurt pretty badly."

"Isn't she...okay?" Ava asked breathlessly.

"Yes, I suspect she will be. Now please...let me help you."

Reluctantly, she did as he asked, lying facedown on the cold tile, an extra shirt used as a pillow. As soon as Steve's fingers had begun their work, however, sudden voices were heard to her left, and Ava strained her neck to see what was happening. Steve abandoned her on the floor, jumping to his feet.

"Morgana!"

Ava pulled herself up onto her hands and knees and fought back the bile rising in her throat. As quickly as possible, she got to her feet and observed Loki and Morgana standing a short distance away. Loki practically held her up, Morgana barely holding her own weight. Both were deathly pale, sweat dripping from Loki's temple. Morgana's clothes had been reduced to rags, and she too had blood running from her skin.

"Are you-are you guys okay?" Ava inquired, her eye widening.

"I think it's best...if we wait for conversation. I'm going to help Morgana to a room," Loki murmured with a certain finality to his tone.

Ava nodded, and Steve watched reluctantly as Loki helped Morgana limp down the hall.

"Steve, what did they-?"

"I don't know," he interrupted, watching them go.

**********

It was not until two days later that everyone was gathered together for the first time. Wanda had received a concussive head injury during the destruction of the palace and had not left her bed yet. Clint stayed with her constantly in order to make sure that she was recovering. Scott and Sam had recovered quite quickly, and Steve claimed that he was completely fine. Ava saw through his lies, however. She noticed the way he winced when moving, or shut his eyes tight randomly in pain.

Morgana and Matt had joined them, and all kept the tone light. There was no need to bring the mood down any further. Ava sat with Steve, his arms around her as Clint laughingly told them about how Ava had stabbed him.

"I didn't mean to," she insisted, Clint rolling his eyes.

"I don't know," Scott laughed. "You punched me, you stabbed Clint--what's next?"

Sam was cracking up next to them, and a blush filled her cheeks.

"Oh just--everybody shut up!"

Surprisingly, they did, the conversation slowing.

"I presume you are all anxious to return to Midgard as soon as possible," said Thor, breaking the silence.

"Yes," Matt admitted.

"I've already made arrangements," Thor nodded.

"But don't you need help here?" Ava insisted.

"We've left Earth unprotected as well, Ava," Morgana chimed in.

"But there are so many injured, so many-"

"We can handle our city," Thor smiled at her. "Aren't you anxious to return?"

With a sigh, she nodded, staring reluctantly at her fidgeting fingers.

"We will be fine," his booming voice insisted.

**********

They stood around the remaining pillars of the walkway into the palace, Ava's arms crossed firmly over her chest. Periodically she glanced over at Morgana and Loki, trying not to eavesdrop. Morgana's arms were wrapped firmly around him, and he spoke softly in her ear. When she finally pulled away, he gave her a weak smile, allowing her to take Matt's hand in her own.

Ava's attention was interrupted as Clint came to stand beside her.

"Ready?"

"Sure," she replied with a shrug.

"You don't sound excited."

Though a million thoughts were running through her head, Ava spoke none of them, instead staring dismally at the ground.

"I know...it's going to be hard, trying to resume some sort of normality...especially without-"

"Bucky," she finished, biting her lip as she met his gaze.

"Yes..." he continued, "but you still have all of us. And eventually...you'll have him again too. You'll see."

"Are you ready?" Thor interrupted, addressing them all.

Steve smiled back at him, then at his teammates. "Lets go."


	59. Chapter 59

Inhaling a shuddering breath, Morgana looked down at her hand, which was grasped gently between both of Loki’s. Their warmth did little to ease her vexation, however, as he raised it to his lips and pressed a kiss to the back of her fingers. The time had come for her to leave the Realm Eternal and return to Midgard, but her departure was not proving as simple and painless as she had imagined. Despite the many unpleasant occurrences, trials, and sufferings she had endured here, Morgana was still bound to this place by treasured memories of long walks beside the sea; the snow on the mountains’ peaks, dazzling in the light of the setting sun; and the glittering golden towers of Asgard, whose summits strove upwards towards the heavens. This had been her home for over a thousand years. 

With some difficulty, she swallowed, feeling her throat constrict as the threat of tears burned behind her eyes. It was easier to talk of anything but leaving, so Morgana raised her eyes to meet Loki’s and fought to steady her voice. “Will you be all right?”

He gave a light laugh and lowered his head. “I have spoken with Thor and, due to my actions throughout the duration of the battle, as well as my agreement to relinquish the throne, he has decided not to imprison me.”

She breathed a sigh of relief. “That’s wonderful news.”

“But,” he went on grudgingly, “I am not longer permitted to remain in Asgard. I am, for lack of a better word, exiled.” 

Her heart plummeted, and she stared at him. “But…where will you go?”

“I don’t know,” Loki replied. Apprehension swirled in his pale eyes, but he forced a smile. “I suppose that is the first thing I will have to figure out.” 

Morgana wanted to tell him to come to Earth, to be with her and Matt and the Avengers, but she knew that this idea was folly. In a perfect world, perhaps it could be done, but the world was not perfect, and neither were they. Separation, as difficult as it may be for them, was a grievous necessity. With a strangled sob, she sprang forward and threw her arms around his neck. 

“Thank you,” she murmured, so that only he could hear, “for everything. Without you, I would still be Karis.” 

“If ever you should require my help again,” said Loki, holding her tight, “you need only ask.” 

“We will see each other again—one day.” 

With those last, parting words, Morgana drew back and looked him in the eye. For her sake, he managed a small smile, which she reciprocated. Then she turned away, going back to Matt’s side and slipping her fingers through his. Giving her hand a gentle squeeze, he canted his head toward her. 

“Are you ready?”

Nodding, Morgana glanced up at him and smiled. “I think so. I’ve said goodbye to my old home. Now, I am ready to make a new one.”


	60. Chapter 60

Scott held her hand as she sat reluctantly in the airport lobby.

"They'll be here soon," he tried to reassure her.

Ava hadn't said a word in a long while, her mind racing with memories and unreasonable fears, her heart beating wildly. Wanda sat next to them, talking to someone on the phone in hushed tones about a mission she was scheduled for.

Time seemed to pass endlessly as she waited for them to arrive, foot tapping nervously, hair failing into her eyes. Rubbing her palms across her jeans nervously, Ava wondered if she looked all right. She'd tried to pick something cute but something he might recognize. There was a deep fear in her heart that something might've happened and he might not remember her.

"Ava..." Scott's voice trailed off.

She stood, ripping her hand from his and moving forward numbly. Steve stood there with a backpack on, carrying a rolling suitcase. Sam was trying to lug a duffel bag, and Bucky stood behind them. Anything she might have wanted to say died on her lips.

Steve noticed her and smiled, waving. Wanda brushed past them and ran to give Steve a hug. Nearly a month had passed since she'd seen either of them. However, she barely registered that he was there, her eyes focused on Bucky. His long dark hair had disappeared, replaced by a shorter, handsome haircut. He wore a black t-shirt and jeans and carried only a backpack.

Moving toward her slowly, she knew he had seen her. As he approached, her heart beat faster, threatening to burst. Finally, he stood in front of her, and she shyly stared at her shoes. Neither of them said a word, Bucky rubbing his neck nervously. 

Finally, Steve was the one to break the tension. "Well?"

Buck cleared his throat and smiled at her.

"I missed you," she finally whispered, voice cracking slightly, eyes raising to his.

Many emotions swirled within them--unreadable. "I missed you too."

Another awkward silence prevailed, and her fear began to take over. It wasn't supposed to go like this... He should have run to her, wrapping her in his embrace. Reluctantly, she turned, but his hand shot out, grabbing her wrist. Hope filling her eyes, she whipped about, throwing her arms around him and holding on tighter than she would have thought possible.

He began mumbling anxiously. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry I left you alone and-and-I'm so-"

She cut off his sentence. "It's okay, Buck... I just missed you so much."

She was crying into his t-shirt, his arm wrapped tightly around her, face buried against her neck. Finally, he pulled back, and she sniffed, trying to regain some dignity.

"I was scared," she choked out.

"Of What? Me?" he whispered, his eyes filling with guilt, using his thumb to wipe a tear from her cheek.

"That you wouldn't remember me...or that you might feel differently."

He stared at her for a moment before taking her face in his hand, eyes softening as he gazed at her. "Do you still have the letter I wrote you?"

Weakly she nodded, sniffing.

"What did I say?"

"I-I-"

"I told you I loved you. Do you know what? I love you just as much--if not more--today. I love you, Ava."

Ava wondered if she was even breathing, his warm fingers tethering her to the spot. His eyes searched hers wildly, everything around them seeming to disappear.

"I-I love you too..." she whispered. "I've wanted to tell you that for so long..."

He leaned in close, letting his lips hover over her ear. "Kiss me..."

His voice was deep and soothing, his hand on her waist. She grinned, pulling on his collar and pressing her lips to his. His hand shifted to her back, keeping her close, and she kept one hand on his collar, the other buried in his hair.

"I love you," she whispered again as he pulled away, his lips inches from her own.

He merely moaned against her skin. "It's been a long time," he muttered.

"Three years," she whispered, his forehead resting on hers.

He leaned in to press his lips to hers again, and Steve cleared his throat. Ava turned, blushing, as she saw the three men watching them with raised eyebrows. Wanda stood back slightly, taking pictures with her phone with a warming smile. Pulling away, Ava glanced meekly at the ground, trying to reduce the color in her cheeks.

"Ava-" Steve murmured.

She walked forward, throwing her arms around him. "I missed you, Steve! The apartment's been lonely without you."

"I missed you too..."

"You two FaceTimed every day," Sam scoffed. "Give me a break."

"Missed you too, dork," she murmured, giving him a hug as well.

"If you'll excuse us," Bucky smirked, moving forward and slipping his hand in hers, "I've got to catch up with my girl."

He tossed Steve his backpack with a grin and pulled her behind him. She shrugged cheerfully at the guys before following Buck out of the airport. Once out in the sunlight again, Bucky glanced over at her with a charming smile, his eyes full of love and admiration, and she couldn't help but grin at the sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~ THE END ~ Thank you so much to each and every one of you who came with us on this journey! Please remember to leave a review and let us hear your thoughts! Wonderful comments like yours really do keep writers writing. Thank you for your support! It means more to me than you could possibly know<3
> 
> \- Madison


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